


The Gift

by lornesgoldenhair



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-11
Updated: 2015-03-11
Packaged: 2018-03-17 09:55:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 33,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3524870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lornesgoldenhair/pseuds/lornesgoldenhair
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A chance encounter throws the Doctor and Clara together again and the Doctor decides to mark the occasion with a special gift for Clara. It’s only when they try to go their separate ways again that the Gift appears to backfire, but does it know their own hearts better than they do? M for adult themes and scenes later in the story.<br/>It’s set after the end of Season 8 but before the Christmas Special 2014.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Nothing Has Changed

A bit of Christmas shopping will lift your mood. Well-meaning advice from her Gran but now that Clara was several hours into it and said Gran had gone home exhausted leaving her to finish up the purchasing, she really couldn’t see it far enough. For starters her recent experiences of Christmas had left much to be desired, stained as they were by tragedy involving the Doctor, and to top it off it was a particularly miserable day, so even if she had been full of Good Will it would have been battered out of her by now by the driving cold rain which was currently seeping down the back of her collar. The shops were busy, the street was heaving and Clara decided that she just bloody well hated the Season to Be Jolly and she’d quite like to go home now thank you very much.

Unfortunately she still had to get a present for Gran who was proving tricky to buy for as she’d loudly hinted to Clara all day about things she _didn’t_ want but had failed to point her in the direction of anything acceptable. Clara shifted a few of her bags from one hand to the other trying to evenly redistribute the weight of the gifts and scurried to stand under the doorway of a shop looking out down the High Street. It was getting darker, if that were possible, the driving sleet had resulted in all day long grey skies. Clara knew the shops would be open for a while yet but she really wanted to just get this out of the way and go home and hopefully not have to venture out again. Anyone she’d forgotten about would just have to go present-less.

Right, so think Gran. Think elderly lady. Think elderly lady who had already declared she was dead set against anything containing lavender or royal jelly. What the hell was royal jelly anyway? It only appeared at Christmas in baskets of body lotion for the over seventies. Clara felt a trickle of rainwater wend its way down her face and along her nose. It reached the tip and threatened to drip before she puffed out her breath and tried to blow it away. Not royal jelly. Not bath salts. What did Gran like? She tried to remember the last time she had seen Gran’s eyes light up. Naked Doctor. That had perked her up. Well she couldn’t very well get her Naked Doctor for Christmas. First she hadn’t seen him in months since the incident with the Cybermen and their awkward goodbye, and secondly the newer older version of the Doctor wasn’t as liberal when it came to removing his clothes. And probably Gran wouldn’t fancy him as much. Clara pondered, or maybe she would go for the distinguished look? Anyway no matter, he wasn’t available.

The thought made her heart twinge a little before she shoved it aside and turned her attention again to shopping. It had become a habit, the shoving aside of sadness and she was getting remarkably adept at it.

A book maybe? Or book tokens? They were nice and simple, nice simple easy to purchase no effort required. And there was a coffee shop in the bookstore down the road and god knew she needed coffee and a place to dry out and warm up and regain her strength before heading home and wrapping all this stuff. OK, decision made. Clara pushed herself away from where she had ended up leaning against the doorway and headed back into the crowd, steadily navigating with increasing irritation between dawdling last minute shoppers. When she got to the bookshop and burst into its lobby wringing wet and dripping, a nearby salesperson glared at her from the Arts section and Clara scowled back in no mood to defend herself to the slip of the girl with the perfect make up and hair who clearly hadn’t been dragging herself around town in a wet gale all day. She stomped past her and made her way to the coffee section, the book tokens could wait.

Bookshops with coffee houses were one of Clara’s favourite places and if anything could sooth her it was the peace and quiet combined with the mixed smell of book and coffee. This one was particularly lovely as the coffee part was upstairs and once she had purchased it she could wander along a long balcony which stretched right around the large square building. It was peppered with bookshelves and chaise longues, sofas and tables, art work, sculpture and little cosy booths. Its lighting was subtle but bright enough to read by and as it was high up above the shop floor it had a sense of distance and peace she welcomed readily now. She found herself an empty booth and tucked her mess of shopping bags under the table. Taking off her wet coat she hung it over a wooden chair before using her scarf to wipe her neck of the rainwater that had seeped in. She felt like a drowned rodent, trying to straighten out her limp hair, plastered across her forehead and cheeks in wet strands. Her mascara was probably half way down her face. Clara bent and rummaged in her bag for some tissues but finding none straightened up again and scanned the room for some serviettes.

He was sitting at the end of the balcony looking straight at her. Clara gasped and then swallowed self-consciously. The Doctor didn’t move from his position stretched on one of the chaise longues, book in hand, his jacket falling open to reveal the red lining. His face was absolutely impassive, but his eyes bore into her and he refused to look away.

At once a dozen thoughts crossed Clara’s mind. Why was he here? Wasn’t he supposed to be King of Gallifrey by now? And never mind why was he here on earth, why was he in a bookshop at Christmas time? And what was that feeling she was feeling? Was it joy or relief or panic? Was the world in fact ending and he had popped over to the planet to save the human race again? Was this Christmas going to be as disastrous as the last and if so why did he keep having to do that to her? Ruining Christmas?

And more pressingly, what did she do now?

Clara tore her eyes away from him and looked down at her coffee on the booth table. She couldn’t just ignore him but she didn’t know what to say either. She tentatively touched her cup. She could go over. Say hello. Just old friends having coffee, a chance meeting in a bookshop, perfectly normal. Except there was nothing normal about meeting a two thousand year old alien in a bookshop for coffee. Especially when you miss that two thousand year old alien horribly and you’re frightened you won’t be able to keep that from him and he’ll find out the truth about your dead boyfriend and how miserable the last few months have been and how much you’d really like to just get into that big blue box and fly away from it all for a while with your best friend.

‘Hello Clara,’ he said and she jumped so hard the coffee swilled over the edge of her cup. The Doctor handed her a serviette as though he had predicted this and she looked up at him with a mixture of embarrassment and nerves.

‘Shouldn’t sneak up on people,’ she said taking the napkin and busying herself with wiping the saucer of her beverage. She could feel his eyes on her face.

‘I wasn’t aware I’d sneaked,’ he said levelly, ‘I’m sorry.’

Clara finished tidying up the spill and risked cautiously raising her eyes to meet his. He looked back at her with the very slightest hint of uncertainty. So, it was awkward for both of them.

The Doctor glanced at the booth, ‘May I?’ Clara nodded. They both slipped into their respective sides and almost immediately mirrored one another, heads down, hands clasped on the table in front of them. Clara noticed and put hers under the table, wiping sudden clamminess down her skirt. The Doctor kept his where they were, studying them, worrying them against one another slightly. She exhaled a little more loudly than she intended.

‘So…’ she started.

‘Clara please relax you’re putting me on edge,’ he said suddenly.

‘Sorry,’ she tensed. The Doctor sighed at her. ‘Sorry,’ she said again.

‘We can have coffee,’ he said echoing her recent thoughts, ‘Two old… friends. It’s quite normal.’

‘Normal, right.’

‘Clara!’

‘What?’

He pushed back from the table and leaned against the booth’s couch. ‘Stop it!’

‘Stop what?’

‘This!’ he waved at her, ‘Relax for goodness sake, it’s only me. How many times have we had coffee?’

Clara looked at him and suddenly found herself smiling. He hadn’t really changed. The same clothes, the same grey-blue eyes flashing at her with impatience and a hint of the warmth she knew lay under his harsher exterior. The same way he was gesturing at her now in despair at his little pudding brained companion.

‘Lots of times,’ she answered.

‘Thank you,’ he said in triumph.

‘But not lots of times recently,’ she added.

‘Well then even more reason to stop being all standoffish and catch up,’ he remarked.

‘ _Me_? Standoffish?’ Clara scoffed, ‘ _You_ are telling _me_ I’m standoffish?’

‘Well you are, you’re tense, you’re sweating…’

‘Sweating?’

‘I can smell it,’ he said by way of explanation, ‘Your anxiety in your sweat.’

Clara made an offended face, ‘Thanks a lot.’

‘Well it’s _your_ sweat. Not my fault it’s seeping out of every pore because you’re tense.’

‘Shut up!’

They both looked down at the table, at their hands. After a second they both risked a furtive glance at the other. Clara’s smile burst out unbidden at last.

‘How are you?’ she asked with genuine warmth. The Doctor’s posture altered slightly and she could have sworn that his body slumped a little with relief in the same way hers did when she caught his slight answering smile.

‘I’m as I always am,’ he said, ‘You?’

‘The same mainly,’ she avoided his gaze a little before moving quickly on. ‘Why are you here? I mean in a bookshop?’

The Doctor drew in a breath and looked about him, down over the bannister to his left at the milling shoppers below. In the middle of the crowd a large man dressed as Santa Claus was ho ho ho-ing and for a second he looked up at them both and smiled. The Doctor frowned, ‘They do good coffee,’ he said.

Clara pulled a face at him. ‘Well yes they do, but isn’t it rather a long way to come for good coffee, from Gallifrey?’

He ignored her, ‘And it has a nice atmosphere, peaceful, bookish. I like the furniture.’

‘But….’

‘I just like the place, Clara,’ he said quickly. ‘Why are you here?’

‘I live here.’

‘In the bookshop?’

‘No in town. This is my bit of town so it’s not weird for me to be here doing my Christmas shopping in December. It’s weird for you to be here drinking coffee in my town light years away from your planet.’

He pursed his lips slightly and glanced away, ‘Yes, I suppose it is when you put it that way.’

‘I thought it wasn’t commutable?’

‘What?’

‘Gallifrey. Really far away. Not commutable you said.’

‘Oh. That. Well…’

Clara stared hard at him realisation dawning. She suddenly let both hands hit the table hard with a thump that made the crockery rattle and a few patrons turn their heads towards them.

‘You haven’t found it have you?’ she said.

‘Keep your voice down,’ the Doctor hissed back at her in a strange moment of role reversal, in the past it had always been him who had been socially incompetent. Clara glanced round at the surprised coffee drinkers at other nearby tables. She lowered her voice to an angry whisper.

‘Well you haven’t have you?’

He looked up at her with a somewhat pained expression.

‘Well?’ she pushed.

‘No,’ he admitted.

Clara flung herself back in the booth and raised her hands in despair. ‘You idiot!’ She looked back at him and managed to clamp her jaw shut and regain some control but the anger didn’t go from her voice yet. ‘You told me you’d found it, that you were heading back there at last, that you were going to be OK and you wouldn’t be coming back here because you’d be too busy _there._ ’

‘Well… yes… more or less.’

‘But instead you’re _here_. Still. Again. But I let you go,’ she continued, ‘Because I thought you were finally happy.’

‘Yes…’

‘Well are you?’

‘Am I what?’

‘Happy?’

The Doctor drew himself up under her fiery gaze. ‘Clara what does any of this matter? So I lied about Gallifrey,’ she glared at him, ‘But you would have to have ‘let me go’ as you put it anyway. You have a life here, you always did and you were more and more torn between that and going on silly adventures with me. You were going to choose your life anyway I just made it a bit easier for you.’

‘By lying.’

‘Yes. By lying,’ he bit back.

‘You ‘made my life easier’ by lying?’ she growled out at him ‘You… you have no idea…’ The Doctor’s eyebrows twitched at her tone.

‘I didn’t want you feeling guilty for sending me away,’ he said, ‘It’s OK Clara I understand it I really do.’

‘Shut up!’ she retorted, ‘Shut up you stupid, stupid idiotic…’

‘Clara…’ he winced and looked round at the other tables again.

‘… stupid _alien_!’ she finished. ‘I wouldn’t have felt guilty.’

‘Oh.’ He looked a bit hurt.

‘I wouldn’t have felt guilty because I wouldn’t have let you go.’

‘Clara you say that but…’

‘I wouldn’t have!’ she protested, ‘I had nothing to stay here for, I didn’t want to lose my best friend too!’

‘But…’

Clara suddenly covered her face with her hands and let out a frustrated grumble.

‘Um…’ the Doctor said. She dropped her hands and looked directly at him. The Doctor attempted a change of subject. ‘So, on a more positive note, how is PE these days?’

Clara dropped her head to the table and let it lay there with her forehead on the polished wood. The Doctor peered at her.

‘Danny,’ she said, her voice muffled by furniture, ‘His name was Danny.’

‘Fine… Danny… wait… _was_? ‘Nothing to stay for?’ What do you mean?’

‘Yes, _was_ , and no, nothing to stay for,’ Clara lifted her head again and looked at him a little awkwardly. She paused, ‘I might not have been totally truthful with you either.’

The Doctor’s face darkened. ‘What?’ he said lowly.

‘But it wasn’t an outright lie, you made an assumption,’ she quickly added.

‘He’s still dead isn’t he?’ he said.

‘Yes.’

The Doctor covered his eyes with one hand. ‘For goodness sake Clara couldn’t he get anything right, he gets a free pass to being alive again, something no-one on earth has ever had, and he doesn’t use it?’

Clara baulked at his rather cutting tone, ‘He did use it,’ she said quietly, ‘He just gave it to someone else. He did a good thing, a hard thing, but a good one.’

The Doctor let out a final exasperated breath and leaned back. Clara looked at him and he looked back. ‘So in summary,’ he said, ‘I lied, you lied, nothing’s changed.’

‘Pretty much,’ she agreed.

‘Great,’ he said.

They both looked down over the shoppers wending their way through stacks of shelves like laboratory mice in a maze.

‘Why are you really here?’ Clara asked without looking back at him.

The Doctor pinched the bridge of his nose. ‘I found this place one Wednesday when you had flu and couldn’t come with me. Passed the day here instead, went back a few times. It has… pleasant associations.’

‘Is that your way of saying you missed me?’ she let her cheeks dimple and gave him her best doe eyes. The Doctor let out a huff.

‘I only live about a mile from here you could have just dropped in,’ Clara said.

‘No I couldn’t.’

‘I come here a lot, to get texts for class and things… You must have known there was a chance you might bump into me?’ Clara queried with something of a smile. He shifted in his seat.

‘I wouldn’t allow such a thing. I know your movements Clara and I have a time machine, I wouldn’t just ‘bump into you.’’

‘So more like you were stalking me from a distance,’ she giggled.

‘I was not stalking you!’ he snapped.

‘Alright! Joking!’

‘I wasn’t stalking you, Clara,’ he said more softly, ‘I just wanted the opportunity to… to see you were OK. Just now and then.’

Clara’s gaze softened and hesitantly she reached out for his hand, ‘Silly,’ she muttered, ‘At least you had that option, I don’t have a time machine to check up on you.’

‘I don’t need checking up on,’

She snorted but held onto his hand when she felt his fingers tighten over hers. They sat for a moment like that listening to the hum of the people below and around them and the faint Christmas music being piped through distant speakers.

‘Your coffee has gone cold,’ the Doctor said.

‘Yes. And I still have to get Gran’s present.’

He caught her eye. ‘I know this little market…’ he started and she immediately knew that tone. Nothing had changed indeed.

‘Where’s the TARDIS?’ Clara cut him off with a grin, ‘Let’s go,’ and she pulled him up by the hand before ducking under the table. ‘Wait, wait! You’re carrying the bags!’

 


	2. The Gift

 

The TARDIS was parked right in the centre of town next to a fountain so by the time they both reached it the Doctor was a drenched as Clara had been before her trip to the coffee shop. She appeared to care less about this soaking however and he couldn’t help but smile to himself as he clicked his fingers and watched her bound through the spaceship’s doors like an excitable puppy.

‘Hello!’ she greeted the machine, ‘Never thought I’d say it but I missed you!’ The TARDIS gave a non-committal bleep in return. Clara turned on the spot in the middle of the console room and took in the surroundings. Same as always, a mixture of Victoriana, brushed steel and steampunk, odds and ends scattered everywhere, broken things, trinkets, spare sonic parts and an empty coffee cup.

‘Can you stop spinning you’re dripping everywhere,’ the Doctor said.

‘Oh don’t be so grumpy,’ she prodded him just hard enough to force the smile onto his face and watched as he moved to hand her sopping bags back to her. ‘Um… where should I put them?’ she asked.

He looked at her askance, ‘Well where do you think? In your room you silly girl.’

‘My…’ Clara blinked at him, ‘It’s been months… my room is still there?’

He looked away from her and down at the floor, scuffing at an imaginary mark there with one shoe. ‘Just didn’t get round to deleting it,’ he said, ‘Don’t go reading significance into my disorganisation. Anyway if you don’t want it I can just hit a button and…’

‘No! No… I’ll go and put this stuff there right now. You…. Go hit some co-ordinates and take us to this market you mentioned, I just need to dry off a little.’ He nodded in reply with his gaze still averted and Clara made off down the hall to where she thought her room might lie.

After a little game playing with the TARDIS for old times’ sake sure enough she came across her door and backed against it to push it open, her arms full of shopping. The TARDIS raised the lights and she deposited her things beside the bed. The neatly made, just how she liked it, covered with scatter cushions, bed. Then she popped herself into her bathroom to get a towel and absently started to dry her hair. She was standing by the dressing table noting how all her belongings still sat there in exactly the same places when she noticed something out of the corner of her eye. Lowering the towel she approached the bed again.

It wasn’t quite as neatly made as she thought. Not TARDIS standard of neat. Instead of the exact folds and lines of a perfect bed in a perfect room made to purpose by a machine, here was a bed whose cover had been replaced by hand and roughly tucked into place, whose pillows weren’t quite properly plumped and positioned. She leaned closer, was that a stain on the pillow?

‘Everything OK? We should be there soon,’ he spoke from the doorway. Clara spun round guiltily and he raised his eyebrows at her.

‘Has someone been in my bed?’ she asked a little sharply.

‘What?’

‘Someone’s been in my bed haven’t they? Did you… I mean…. Did you go travelling with someone?’

‘No Clara, and if I had I wouldn’t let them use your bed, I’m not exactly pushed for space here.’

‘Then why is there a mark on the pillow? Why are the covers rumpled?’

He looked awkwardly at the floor again. ‘Ah.’

‘Doctor! You might as well have deleted it if you were just going to lend it out to people! People who leave _marks_!’

‘I didn’t lend it out to anyone!’ he said a little defensively.

Clara glared at the pillow a little unsure why she was so angry. She flinched a little when she felt him come up behind her.

‘I slept in it,’ he admitted quietly. She turned round to look at him.

‘You?’

‘Yes, me.’

‘You have your own bed.’

‘Yes,’ he looked for a moment like he really just wanted the TARDIS to teleport him out of the room.

‘So why did you have to sleep in mine and what’s that stain?’ She pointed at the offending mark.

‘What stain… oh that...’ He actually blushed. Clara’s eyes widened in horror.

‘Oh no… you didn’t… oh my _God_!’

‘What?’

She clamped her hands over her mouth, ‘Not in my bed!’ The penny seemed to drop and the Doctor was quick to protest.

‘ _No_! No… Clara no! Not that.’

‘What then?’

‘I don’t want to say, it’s embarrassing.’

Clara looked at him in horror again.

‘Not _that_ ,’ he waved his hands and then realised he just seemed to be digging himself in deeper. He sighed aware he was going to have to come out with the truth now. ‘Tears Clara, that’s all it is.’

‘Tears don’t stain pillows!’

‘Well mine do…. _Alien…_ remember.’

‘Oh.’ Clara fell silent. ‘Oh well that’s OK then. I mean not OK, tears are not OK but I think they’re better than the other. Possibly.’ She chewed her lip still looking at the bed. The Doctor passed his hands over his face.

‘Right well now that we have caused enough embarrassment to me that I may actually expire and regenerate can we move on?’

‘Why were you crying?’ she asked suddenly.

He groaned, ‘Can we not do this?’

‘Do what?’

‘This. Can we not talk about this? We’re about to land and do the rest of your Christmas shopping, you’re a woman, this ought to be enough to distract you.’

Clara fumed at him, ‘That is sexist and incorrect. I don’t care about the Christmas shopping right now. Admittedly it’s probably more fun on an alien planet but I still hate it in principle. I also hate when you’re being avoidant. You were so avoidant last time I saw you we ended up going our separate ways for months on end, so I’m done with avoidance. Answer the question, why were you crying?’

The Doctor scanned the room as though he might find assistance somewhere within its walls. His eyes eventually tracked back to where she was standing hands on hips, foot practically tapping in ire. She had her chin pushed forward in that determined way he remembered so well.

‘I never said I was crying, I said they were tears. A person can shed tears for lots of reasons. A bad head cold, dust, allergies, conjunctivitis! Don’t flatter yourself!’

‘Ah! Don’t flatter myself! So it was to do with me?’ her tone was half tease, half confrontation.

‘And you call _me_ arrogant,’ he snapped.

‘Well it wasn’t _dust_ was it? The TARDIS doesn’t do dust.’

‘That was just an example,’ he said in frustration.

The engines heaved beneath them and they both felt the ship come to a halt at their new destination. Clara eyeballed him for a moment longer. He glared back.

‘Christmas market,’ he said from nowhere and pointed at the door, ‘Now!’

‘I need to get changed, I’m still wet,’ she said. The Doctor looked down at her right enough her clothes were clinging to her damply. She had to be cold. He relented.

‘Wear something warm, it will be snowing,’ he said in a slightly calmer tone. Clara nodded and turned to her wardrobe before rethinking, turning back and handing him her towel.

‘Your hair’s still wet, dry yourself off or you’ll catch your death,’ she said. He stood holding the towel for a moment before she sighed and grabbed it back from him stretching to reach up and ruffle it through his hair. The Doctor tried to pull back but she wasn’t having it and with the practiced hand of her nannying years she dried him off, pausing to make sure she wiped the rain from his cheeks and neck too. She shoved the towel at his chest.

‘Am I likely to get chased attacked or eaten in this market?’ she asked, her tone normal again.

‘Probably not but I can never really guarantee these things,’ he replied. Clara nodded and started rummaging through her cupboards.

‘Well try not to get us into trouble, I haven’t seen you in ages and just want a nice relaxing day.’

‘Yes, boss,’ he caught the reflection of her smile in the mirror. It rapidly turned into disgruntlement.

‘Where’s my favourite jumper?’ she asked, ‘Everything else is just where I left it but I can’t see it. It was great for these cold planets, the green one we picked up on that moon…’

Behind her the Doctor had moved towards her bed and with one hand had slipped something green and woolly out from under the stained pillow. He held it out to her apologetically.

‘What…?’ she started and then caught his eye.

‘Please don’t ask me,’ he said, ‘Just get ready and meet me in the console room,’ and he left. Clara watched him retreat for a second before unrolling the jumper in her hands. She looked from it to the bed and then shrugging went to lift it over her head. She stopped and brought her nose to it surprised to find that she could still smell traces of her perfume trapped in its fibres. She’d always liked that perfume, perhaps this market would have some more of it she could pick up, what was it called again….? She took another sniff aware of another pleasant scent mixed in. It smelled of rich old forests and salted breezes, fresh and alive, it smelled… of him. Of the Doctor.

Clara looked back at the bed and let the pieces fit together making mental note of two important discoveries. First that he had missed her deeply. And second that she hadn’t been the only one to cry herself to sleep.

XXXXXXXX

‘Green jumper… check,’ Clara announced as she returned to the console room, ‘Sensible running away shoes… check… just in case,’ she winked at him and was pleased when he rolled his eyes in response, ‘Let the shopping commence.’

‘So what does your Gran want anyway?’ he asked as he opened the TARDIS door onto the alien market.

‘Apart from you in your birthday suit you mean?’ Clara skipped out, ‘Wow look at this place.’

‘Me in my… what’s a birthday suit?’

‘What you wear on your birthday,’ Clara said absently stooping to examine a handful of the what she presumed was snow, ‘Why is it pink?’ she asked.

‘Mineral dissolved into rainwater, when it freezes it turns pink. But I wear the same suit on my birthday as other days…?’

Clara stood up and leaned into him, ‘The one you wore on your first ever birthday,’ she whispered.

‘But I didn’t wear…. Oh… he realised… _Oh_ … why would she want _that_?’

‘She found you quite the dashing young man last year.’

‘Somehow doubt she’d think that now,’ the Doctor shoved his hands in his trouser pockets to keep warm and started trudging through the snow towards the market stalls. Around them dozens upon dozens of peculiar alien life forms were milling about carrying bags. Clara was amazed at how similar the place looked to her high street back home. Except more brightly coloured. And the sky was green, emerald green.

‘She thought you had pretty eyes,’ she said, ‘You know when they were green.’

The Doctor let out a huff. ‘Well she won’t be happy if you get her me this year then will she? Not naked, no green eyes. Better get her some royal jelly.’

‘What is royal jelly?’ Clara asked.

‘Something to do with bees I think,’ he mused. ‘Isn’t that what elderly humans like? That and that purple flower that smells?’

‘Yes, but she said she didn’t want that… oooo look at these!’

Clara tugged on his sleeve and pulled him towards a stall filled with tiny paper bags full of what looked like nuts and dried fruits. She breathed in deeply.

‘Oh god they smell amazing,’ she said, ‘it’s like the Christmas markets at home, the ones where they roast nuts in the street and cover them in cinnamon and spices.’ She stopped, ‘Do you know what I’m starving, I’ve not eaten all day.’

The Doctor let a half smile cross his lips and plucked a couple of bags off the stall before dropping some coins into the waiting paw of the alien running it. He handed one bag to Clara, ‘Knock yourself out,’ he said. She dug into her bag pulling out a perfectly round ball about a centimetre across which sparkled like gold in the strange green light of the marketplace. Without hesitation she popped it into her mouth and the Doctor smiled to think that after a few years of travelling with him she didn’t even question things like eating alien food bought from street vendors.

‘Oh my stars!’ the sparkling nut-thing must really have hit the spot to get that exclamation from her. ‘You have to try this,’ she said thrusting the bag at him, ‘Try it, try it. Open!’ And before he knew quite what he was doing she had held one up to his lips and he had obediently opened his mouth for her. The taste was nice enough he supposed but he was distracted by the brush of her fingertip along his lower lip as she pulled away. ‘Aren’t they great?’ she enthused before digging back in again. The Doctor chewed thoughtfully, the tingling at his lips fading slowly.

‘Grans not getting these, I’ll eat them all before we get back. What else is there?’ Clara asked before dashing ahead a few paces to examine another stall.

‘She’s your Grandparent, Clara, you shop for her, I’m just here to pay and make sure you don’t get carried off by any of the merchants.’

‘Are they likely to carry me off?’

‘Well you are very small… they might mistake you for merchandise.’ Clara punched him in the arm and then when he protested slipped her hand through the crook of his elbow and held onto him.

‘For the last time,’ she said, ‘I am a perfectly respectable height, but just in case they get any ideas about selling me into slavery or some such I’ll stick by you.’

They walked on, Clara looking from side to side at various stalls and mumbling under her breath about shopping. After they had passed a few more she dragged the Doctor over to one that appeared to be run by a large alien sheep. At least its eyes looked sheepish and peered back at Clara yellowly over a heap of knitted products. Clara gave it a half hearted smile and looked over the contents of the display.

‘Grans like woolly things,’ she explained, ‘Mittens and gloves and hats…’ she pulled an item from the pile, ‘And scarves! Look at the size of that!’ she kept pulling and the stripey scarf kept coming, ‘I mean it just goes on and on,’ she pulled again and another foot emerged.

‘Um… Clara…’

‘Who would need a scarf this long though, except maybe an alien with a really long neck,’ another pull, another couple of feet.

‘Clara!’ the Doctor interrupted. She stood looking at him with her arms full of knitted multi-coloured wool. He nodded at the Sheep.

‘What?’

‘You have to tell it when to stop,’ he explained, ‘Or it will just keep knitting, thinking you want more.’

Clara looked round to find the sheep looking eagerly back at her, its hoof things flying frantically as it knitted what appeared to be the wool from its own body, row after row so fast it was a blur.

‘Arg!’ Clara squeaked, ‘Stop stop, that’s enough scarf! I was only looking!’

The Sheep’s knitting stopped and it glowered at her. It made a barking bleating noise that was quite clearly irritation.

‘Well you’ll have to buy it now,’ the Doctor sighed, ‘Can’t do the poor thing out of all its hard work.’ He leaned forward and dropped a handful of coins onto the display and the angry looking sheep seemed to calm down almost instantly.

Clara looked at her bundle of scarf, ‘What am I going to do with this?’ she asked.

‘Wear it?’ the Doctor suggested, ‘That’s what I did.’

‘You what?’

‘It’s an easy mistake to make Clara, innocently browsing only to end up with twelve feet of scarf in colours that don’t go with anything. I decided to make the best of it and wear it. Wore it for years actually, still got it in the wardrobe.’

‘But it’s…’ Clara look at the Sheep and backed away from the stall dragging the Doctor with her, ‘… it’s hideous,’ she hissed. He chuckled.

‘Yes I know but you could at least be grateful,’ he said in mock offense, ‘call it my gift to you. Those creatures get _very_ annoyed if you don’t buy after sampling. I’ve done you a favour… and you’ll never make that mistake again.’

Clara hugged the scarf to her, ‘I’m not touching anything else, strictly window shopping only now,’ she grumbled. ‘Oi, wait up,’ she scampered after him. ‘Where do you get the money from anyway?’ she asked.

‘Hmm?’

‘The coins, I mean it’s not like you have a job.’

‘I don’t need a job,’ he laughed, ‘I have a TARDIS and it can replicate currency.’

‘You never told me that! You mean you’ve got an endless supply of money?’

‘Well… yes… I suppose so.’

‘Well take me back to London let’s hit some proper shops!’

‘Clara that’s immoral.’

‘No more immoral than what we’re doing now.’

‘A few coins on alien Christmas nuts is not the same as replicating half the Bank of England so you can spend it on Oxford Street. ‘

Clara puffed at him, pouting. He averted his eyes from hers, ‘Stop that,’ he said. ‘The eye thing is off limits. Anyway money is not everything… it’s about the experience.’

‘I’d like to experience Oxford Street,’ she moaned but he could tell from her town she was only half serious, she was already distracted by another alien stall. ‘Gosh look at these,’ she breathed. The Doctor wandered over to see what had caught her eye.

‘Ah… yes,’ he agreed softly, ‘Quite lovely aren’t they.’

‘What are they?’ Clara asked.

‘Not entirely sure,’ he admitted, ‘Not seen this particular jewel before, not in these shades anyway, but suspect it comes from the Kaltragian sector, the craftsmanship is similar to what I’ve seen there.’

‘If I touch this am I going to bankrupt you?’ Clara asked her hand hovering over one of the items.

‘No I think you’re OK to touch,’ he answered sharing a glance with the vendor who nodded graciously. ‘Go ahead.’

Clara extended her fingers a little further and slid the first of the gems into her hand. It was the size of a walnut and similarly rough-hewn at first glance but when she examined it closer she could see that the patterns on its surface were in fact carved into the jewel and that the regularity of their shape lent itself to some sort of inscription. It shone orange gold in her palm with a light that seemed truly to come from inside it rather than refracted from all around them.

The Doctor waited patiently by her side while she examined one after another, blues and pinks and golds, small and large, set in clasps, rings and bracelets. He smiled to himself in dismay that the females of nearly all species he had ever encountered all appeared to have a thing for items which sparkled.

Finally Clara picked a small amber coloured jewel on a chain. ‘She’d like this,’ she said by way of clarification, ‘I remember her saying her mum had one similar…’

‘Her mother had a necklace from outer space?’ the Doctor said sarcastically.

‘No,’ Clara rolled her eyes, ‘She had an amber necklace but they had to sell it when she was a kid because they got so hard up.’

‘Ever thoughtful, Clara,’ he said more kindly, ‘What about you?’

‘Me?’

‘You don’t want one? You’ve been fine combing your way through them long enough. You don’t really think the scarf is my gift to you, do you?’

‘I… I don’t just expect you to get me one,’ she said embarrassed and touched by his uncharacteristically sweet offer, ‘I mean they probably cost a bit more than the gold-nuts for starters,’

‘Yes but as we ascertained, endless supply of money.’

‘And we also ascertained… immoral.’

‘This is an exception,’ he pressed. ‘A welcome back present.’ He stood with his hands in his pockets and his eyes cast away from her and she was suddenly aware of how meaningful the moment was and how tricky it must feel for him, it made her feel curiously nervous. Clara’s eyes dipped down to the table again.

‘Well there was one that caught my eye… if you’re insisting.’

The Doctor leaned against the table and waited, raising his eyebrows, ‘Well…’

Clara leaned forward and picked a pale snow-pink jewel from the centre of the table. Across from her the vendor gasped a little before breaking into a wide grin.

‘Well you’ve pleased someone,’ the Doctor said, ‘It’s probably the most expensive thing there.’

‘Oh… I…’ Clara moved to put it down again but he stopped her, wrapping his hand around her wrist.

‘It’s fine,’ he said, ‘Here,’ and he took the pretty gem from her and handed the vendor a suitably large number of coins, ‘Turn round, go on,’ he chivvied.

Clara turned a little and felt him come up against her back, his arms slipping around her sides and lifting the chain of her preferred necklace level with her throat. One hand smoothed back her hair before he quickly clipped the two ends together and let it fall against her neck. His hands lingered a little on her shoulders on the pretence of adjusting the chain, before he spun her back to him and looked at his handiwork. He frowned.

‘How odd,’ he said.

‘What?’ Clara looked down at her chest.

‘It wasn’t that colour before…’ his fingers reached out towards the gem but he stopped himself suddenly aware that it was nestled just above Clara’s breasts. His hand hovered just in front of her.

Clara tried to get a good look at it but couldn’t quite see past her own chin, eventually grabbing it in her fingers and pulling it to the side a little. ‘No it wasn’t,’ she agreed.

The pale pinkish gem she had chosen had transformed into something much richer and much more complex. Within it she could see layers of colour, contrasting, complimenting, _moving_ like a living breathing world inside its shape. But the thing that stood out most for her were the familiarity of its particular tones. The blue-greys and browns of the Doctors eyes and hers. She looked up at him and knew he had realised too.

 

 

 

 


	3. Bound

 

‘Stop staring at it,’ Clara snapped uncomfortably from the other side of the console. ‘It’s not doing any harm.’

‘Then why can’t you take it off?’ he asked.

‘I don’t know!’ Clara huffed and folded her arms, ‘Why did you have to put it on me in the first place?’

‘Well you wanted it!’

‘I didn’t know at the time I’d end up wearing it for life,’ she said. The Doctor programmed her home co-ordinates into the TARDIS and then wandered up to her, eyes still trained on the blue-brown gem. ‘I feel like you keep staring at my chest,’ Clara said.

‘That’s because I am… staring at it…. The necklace that is.’

‘Well it’s unsettling. You. With your eyes. _There_.’

‘I’ve seen your chest before,’ he bent a little and peered closer at the jewel, ‘But I haven’t seen one of these, at least I don’t think so.’

‘You know how to make a girl feel so special.’

‘Oh stop being so pouty,’ he straightened, ‘It seems a harmless enough trinket, must be some way of getting it off.’

The Doctor pulled out his sonic and pointed it at Clara.

‘Careful what you do with that,’ she warned.

‘I’m just going to try a few low settings see if it springs the clasp, must be some sort of basic electromagnetic field holding it secure…’ the sonic buzzed and the necklace stayed on. He tried another setting, and another. ‘Hmm.’

‘I need to get home,’ Clara called as he disappeared down the steps into the space under the console and started rummaging there.

‘Yes, yes, all in good time, it is a time machine Clara it’s not as though you are going to be late.’

‘I don’t like it when you drop me off the day before I left it gets me all confused,’ she replied, ‘Sometimes I end up going to work on the wrong day, or I drink the wrong milk from the fridge…. Or is that the day after….?’

‘Must be so taxing being human,’ the Doctor quipped as he returned waving a tool.

‘What’s that?’ Clara shifted in alarm as he approached her and slipped the jaws of what appeared to be wire cutters around the chain of her necklace.

‘Well if the sonic won’t do it, maybe the old fashioned way will.’

‘Fine, just be careful,’

‘Oh I will, I don’t want it damaged it’s too interesting.’

‘I meant be careful with me, that’s my neck!’

‘Yes… yes…’ he clamped down on the handles of the wire cutters. ‘Argh!’ The Doctor sprang away the tool flying from his hands and clattering onto the TARDIS floor. He rubbed at his palms and flexed his fingers painfully.

‘I take it, it didn’t like that,’ Clara said smirking. He shot a glare at her.

‘Apparently not.’

‘Look just take me home, I need to wrap presents, I promise I’ll come back later…’

The Doctor looked up at her from where he had been staring at the wire cutters. There was a faint skein of smoke rising from them and their place on the floor.

‘You’ll come back?’ he asked.

‘Yes, of course,’ Clara said, ‘couldn’t leave you in such a state of wonderment about the necklace, it would drive you mad. I’ll come back later, or you can drop by after I’ve wrapped things and you can poke at it all you want then.’

He just looked at her.

‘Doctor?’

‘So we’re… back to normal?’ he queried.

‘I… yes I suppose so,’ Clara frowned. ‘That was a bit easy wasn’t it? I feel like we should have some big deep discussion about it.’

‘I say we skip that,’ the Doctor said hurriedly. ‘I’m not very good at those.’

‘No you’re much better at taking me to see alien markets where I end up with gold nuts, ridiculously long scarves I could never wear and necklaces I can’t take off. Still you didn’t get me nearly killed this time so I think we’re heading in the right direction.’ She smiled at him and was rewarded with one of his rarest most genuine and shyest smiles in return. He pulled the TARDIS lever and the engines fired in the direction of home.

‘You go and wrap things I’ll do a bit of thinking about your… problem,’ the Doctor said.

‘Ok,’ she bounced over to him. ‘Hug.’

‘What?’ he retracted in horror as the TARDIS made landing noises and Clara held her arms out for him. ‘I thought you agreed we‘re back to normal, this isn’t normal,’ he protested.

‘I’m starting as I mean to go on,’ she flung her arms round him, ‘There wasn’t enough of this before, I’m changing that, stop wriggling.’

The Doctor stood rigid for a moment then relented and tentatively returned her clasp. After an agonising few seconds Clara pulled back and smiled up at him, ‘See that wasn’t….’

The light from the necklace glowed bright between them, reflecting in their eyes so that each of them took on the tones of the other for a moment.

‘Wow that’s sort of…’ Clara breathed.

‘Beautiful,’ the Doctor finished looking deep into her eyes. His embrace suddenly felt a lot less stiff and Clara found it hard to look away from where she could see the colours swirl in his pupils. He raised a hand to her hair and brushed it gently behind her ear.

‘Beautiful,’ Clara echoed.

The Doctor broke the trance first looking away quickly and extracting himself from her grip. Clara staggered back a pace feeling distinctly fuzzy. ‘Ok… that happened,’ she said in confusion.

‘It did,’ the Doctor remarked and clicked his fingers, the door of the TARDIS opening onto her living room. ‘Run along, wrap things, I have to think, that thing doesn’t seem as harmless as I first thought.’

‘It didn’t do anything nasty… it was a bit intense but…’

‘Off you go,’ he instructed as he climbed to his bookcases, ‘Go on,’ he heard the rustle of Clara lifting her bags and her muttered ‘OK!’ and looked back briefly to see her _en route_ to the door. The necklace was still glowing. She had just taken her first step into her flat when he was hit by an almighty pain.

‘Ah…. Clara…’

‘What?!’ she squealed in shock and reversed her last step, poking her head back round the door.

‘Don’t move,’ he panted from where he was now doubled up over the railing. ‘Actually do move, but in this direction.’

‘Are you alright?’ she asked, worried.

‘Come here!’

Clara took a hesitant pace forward and watched as he flinched a little.

‘Clara!’

‘Ok, ok… coming,’ she dropped the bags and trotted forward again and as she did so the tension leeched from the Doctor’s face until by the time she reached him he was leaning over the railing panting but no longer pained. ‘What was that?’ she asked.

‘That,’ he said catching his breath, ‘Was agony.’

Clara stared at him, ‘Nuts disagree with you?’

He raised his eyes heavenwards, ‘No, this thing,’ he jabbed at her necklace, ‘is emitting a force field.’

‘It is?’

‘It is. Try it… move towards the door again… slowly this time and for heaven’s sake stop when I tell you.’

Clara backed down the steps and edged towards the door. For a few paces nothing seemed to happen and then suddenly the Doctors face went pale again and he gripped the railing harder than ever. ‘Stop!’ he cried. ‘Now come back.’ She did as she was told and the colour returned to his cheeks.

‘It doesn’t want me to leave?’ Clara guessed. The Doctor came down the stairs and walked past her to the door testing a theory. As he reached it he seemed to buckled and grasped at the wall for support.

‘It doesn’t want us to separate,’ he corrected, ‘That’s something quite different… that’s….’ his eyes suddenly lit up and he scurried back over to her, ‘That’s something I’ve seen before,’ he grabbed her hand and dragged her to the console, ‘Sorry can’t risk you being too far away at the moment, selfish of me but it’s quite painful, here!’ he pulled the TARDIS monitor towards them both and began calling up data. ‘I said at the market the gems were very like those from the Kaltragian sector?’

‘Yes,’

‘Well that’s because they are, sort of, technically they are from ancient Kaltragia, thousands of years old, carved by the primitive tribes before they were all wiped out by their version of the black death. I’d seen the modern remakes if you like, things carved in tribute to them, but the original stones were lost eons ago. Over the centuries various legends were built up about them. You know the sort of thing, gems imbued with great abilities, to control the weather, to affect the seasons, to bestow great power…’

‘One ring to rule them all…’ Clara said.

‘Quite. Well there was also mention of a type of stone used in ceremonies of the time, binding ceremonies…. Between er… couples…’ he looked momentarily awkward.

Clara’s eyes widened a little.

‘There,’ he gestured at the screen, ‘The Kaltragian Coupling Stone… oh…’

Clara looked over quickly at the image and managed to see it just as he swiped the screen to one side hiding the erotic pose of the couple involved in the ceremony. ‘Doctor!’

‘It’s just an artistic interpretation of the legend Clara.’

‘It had better be, I don’t think I bend that way,’ she said blushing, ‘So you think that’s what this thing is, one of these Coupling Stone thingies?’

‘I’m fairly certain.’

‘Harmless?’

‘Oh yes, harmless.’

‘Well that’s good.’

‘Yes…’ he said hesitantly.

‘What? What do you mean ‘yes? You mean ‘no’ don’t you? That’s what you mean when you say yes?’

‘It _is_ harmless,’

‘Good,’ Clara pushed away from the console.

‘It’s just rather difficult to remove the binding. Couples were reputedly bound for life Clara, and I can’t say I’m entirely sure how the thing works, I mean it doesn’t make much logical sense. You can’t take it off, I can’t break the thing off you, we’re stuck and how did we bind it in the first…. wait don’t walk out the… ah!’

Clara stopped in the doorway and sighed, ‘You said it’s basically harmless? Well it’s Christmas and I have things to organise so the harmless thing can wait and well you’ll just have to follow me until you figure it out,’ she turned and looked at him doubled over by the console, ‘Come on! I’ve things to do!’

‘But…’

‘I’m walking out of this door,’ Clara said.

‘Wait….’ He moved towards her one hand still on his stomach but his pallor diminishing. ‘Just give me some warning next time,’ he moaned.

‘Relax as long as you stay within a few metres of me you’ll be fine. I can wrap presents and you can research the necklace and we can both be happy.’

‘This is so restrictive,’ he grumbled, ‘I’m used to travelling all space and time when I want and you expect me to watch you wrap presents?’ he followed her into the kitchen where she dumped her shopping bags on the table and extracted wrapping paper from one of them.

‘Make yourself useful and get us some tea,’ she instructed, ‘there’s quite a lot to wrap.’

‘Don’t you think it’s slightly more important to say… go back to that planet and sort this out?’ he asked.

‘Do you think they do refunds?’ she asked suddenly business like.

‘Somehow I doubt it.’

‘Well it won’t have a twenty eight day warranty will it so we’re in no rush, we’ll go but later. It’ll do us good to spend some time together…’

‘It will?’ he asked uncertainly.

Clara sighed and looked at him, grabbing his hands and making the decision to at least partially address what she had discovered that day. ‘Yes it will. I’m going to say this because I know you’re completely incapable of it, but I missed you. I really, really missed you, and this, and the time we spend together. I’m glad you’re back and I want more of that time and for us to do the silly crazy things we used to, like go to planets and buy ancient carved gems that have magical inexplicable powers. But maybe we can balance it and do some ordinary things too like have coffee and go shopping and not get too caught up in the sadder side of life because, quite honestly I had quite enough of that last year and it was awful and I’m tired of crying.’

She squeezed his hands and turned back to the table to wrap the first gift. The Doctor hesitated behind her.

‘So am I,’ he said softly.

‘I know,’ she said just as quietly, and it was enough for now, ‘Make the tea.’

 

XXXXXXXXX

 

The Doctor was beginning to wonder if Clara’s shopping bags were programmed the same way as the interior of his TARDIS. Every time he thought she must have extracted the last present another emerged. After an hour or so on the kitchen table she suggested they move into the living room where he took up position lying on the couch and she knelt on the floor with paper spread out where the coffee table usually sat. The edges pinned down with the sellotape holder and kitchen scissors, Clara bent over and carried on her relentless task. The Doctor stared at the ceiling ruminating on Kaltragian Gems.

‘This is killing me,’ Clara groaned from the floor.

‘Hmm?’

‘Wrapping…’

‘Well don’t do it then.’

‘It has to be done, I’m nearly there.’

The Doctor glanced at the enormous pile of shiny boxes she had created. He had to admit they looked quite pretty if you liked that sort of thing. She’d even added ribbons and bows. He still didn’t quite understand the point of wrapping gifts just to have them unwrapped but he could appreciate design.

‘Who are all these for anyway?’ The Doctor asked.

‘Oh everyone. Dad, Gran, _her_ ,’ she said a little coolly referring to her step mum, ‘Friends at work, friends from uni, friends from school…’

‘Friends from your time as an embryo….’

Clara lifted her head and caught his eye about to protest. He winked at her and she burst out laughing.

‘OK so maybe I don’t need to get everyone presents but I like to, I’m _nice_ remember.’

‘How could I forget,’ he said without a trace of sarcasm.

Clara stuck a last piece of sellotape on her package and then sat back on her heels groaning and rubbing her neck. ‘I hurt,’ she complained, ‘My back is sore.’

‘I suppose you want me to move over,’ he said but he already had and she clambered up onto the sofa and tried to find a comfortable position. ‘It’s late you should get some rest. We have things to do tomorrow.’

‘You mean the necklace…’

‘Yes.’

‘What’s the plan?’ Clara tried flexing her back and grimaced as it made a crunching noise.

‘Well we could go back and have a word with that vendor, find out what he knew if anything about the gems, but I suspect that will be a dead end. Street vendors pick up what they think is junk from all over the… Clara…’

‘I’m listening,’ she said rubbing her lower back absently.

The Doctor sighed and rather too firmly turned her in her seat until her back faced him.

‘Ouch!’ she squeaked.

‘As I was saying,’ he continued, his hands resting on her shoulders, ‘street vendors often pick up ‘junk’ from all over the place, and they don’t keep records. The most likely thing is he saw something pretty and thought he could make some money so I don’t think we’re going to get very far tracking it down.’

He squeezed her shoulders and then began running his long fingers gently down her back, searching her muscles for tight spots. As he found them he pressed lightly with his thumbs and rubbed in small circles. Clara breathed out contentedly as the tightness began to leave her. ‘So I thought we might go directly the Kaltarian Sector itself and do a little research into the old ways. They have museums there dedicated to it all, great historians and mythologists. We’re bound to find some clues to these Coupling Stones. As I said before I’m still not entirely sure how we triggered the Binding in the first place or how these things work but once we find that out we can reverse it I’m sure…’ he pressed his thumbs firmly into her lower back and she gasped as his hands gripped her waist, pulling taut along her muscles and easing her discomfort.

‘You’re really good at that,’ Clara commented.

‘I’m two thousand years old I know how to massage muscle. I’ve been to various gurus over the centuries who enlightened me in techniques known to…’

‘Shut up.’

‘Right.’

‘But keep doing that.’

‘OK.’

He silently continued his manipulation of her back, loosening off the stiffness that had built up along her spine, gently caressing the soft flesh he could feel rippling slightly under the pressure of his hands. He shifted a little closer to her until his inner thigh touched her hip and let the scent of her wash over him. His fingers crept up to the back of her neck, wound themselves into her hairline, stroked down her cheek with each pass and Clara turned to him slightly, just enough so that he could see her lips slightly parted as her breath came relaxed and warm over his hand. On her chest the Gem glowed again brightly and the Doctor felt himself drifting as though he were dreaming. He wrapped one arm around her waist and pulled her towards him, there was only her, only him. His hand now on her belly, the other still touching her lower back, straying to her hip. She turned a little more and her lips looked so inviting then, all he had to do was lean forward, just a little and they would be on his at last.

The Gem flickered, enticing him forward, its blues and browns swirling urgently to where he somehow knew he would be accepted utterly. He closed his eyes and breathed her in, something dark and needy wakening in him from dormancy.

‘Doctor,’ her voice sounded distant, dreamlike, she was pushing back against him and could feel her temperature rising in arms. ‘Doctor…’

His eyes snapped open and he stared directly at the Gem before pushing her a little roughly away from his body. Clara’s body language went straight from relaxed to angry and then seemed to swerve into confused.

‘Um…’ she said. The Doctor covered his mouth with his hands and breathed out slowly. Clara’s huge brown eyes stared at him in concern. ‘What was _that?_ ’ she asked.

‘I’m assuming it’s something to do with that glowing thing round your neck rather than my incredible massage technique.’

Clara plucked at the necklace with her fingers, its light dimming. ‘Whatever it is it seems to have er… turned itself off again.’

‘Good for it,’ he grumbled.

Clara swallowed and smoothed down her skirt where it had ridden up. ‘Ok maybe a good time for me to go to bed.’ She said awkwardly.

‘Yes.’

‘Alone,’ she added.

‘Obviously.’

‘Yes. Ok. Bed,’ and she quickly made her way to the door.

‘Wait! No... you can’t, stop!’

‘What?’

‘You can’t,’ he said, getting off the couch and closing the gap between them.

‘Why not? It’s been a long day, we have to travel tomorrow and there’s weird stuff going on with this necklace and us… and _your hands_ …’ she flapped.

‘Forcefield. Pain.’ he ground out. ‘I can’t be more than about three metres away from you at the moment.’

‘Oh.’ Clara looked round the flat as though calculating distances. When she couldn’t find one that satisfied her she looked back at the Doctor. ‘Well don’t do anything weird. _Weirder_.’

‘What?’

‘We’ll have to share.’

‘We can’t do that, what if that thing starts glowing again?’

‘Well I’m not staying up, I’m tired. Just… control yourself…’ she hissed.

‘It wasn’t just me!’

‘I’ll be asleep.’

‘You’re more likely to control yourself if you’re awake.’

‘Nonsense I’m perfectly controlled when I am asleep.’

‘Of course you are Clara because you are such a control freak that you even control your subconscious dreamscape,’ he said rather bitterly.

‘Shut up!’ she headed for the door and then turned back reaching for his hand and pulling him after her. ‘Shut up and lie down and… behave.’ They emerged in her room. ‘And turn your back I want to get changed.

The Doctor dutifully turned on the spot and folded his arms listening to the soft whoosh of clothing being removed and replaced.

‘I’ll take the floor,’ he said.

‘No you won’t,’ she replied with a little grunt of effort and she put on her pyjama top, ‘You’re so old if you lie down there you’ll never get up again.’

‘I wasn’t the one who stiffened up from wrapping a few presents.’

She sighed behind him and he smirked. He had missed her. He’d missed this. She made him laugh, at least on the inside, he didn’t admit to it too often on the outside. The bed creaked and he took this as a sign to look round. Clara was tucked under the covers, the duvet to her chin, she looked very small, smaller than normal and it gave him an unusual protective feeling.

‘Lie down,’ she instructed.

‘I don’t need sleep,’

‘No but I do and I don’t want you pacing around all night. Lie down. And have some covers or you’ll be cold and twitchy and keep me awake.’

The Doctor circled the bed, taking off his jacket as he did so and hanging it over a chair. He slid under the duvet and looked across at her. Clara stared resolutely at the ceiling. He could just see the edge of the necklace under the covers.

‘It’s not glowing,’ he remarked.

‘Good, hope it stays that way.’

‘Go to sleep.’

Clara shut her eyes. After a moment the Doctor adjusted his position so that he was lying flat on his back hands folded over his abdomen. He closed his eyes and ran through images from the day all the while aware of Clara’s presence, her warmth, breath and scent. How he had ached for just a glimpse of those things again as he had floated in space these last few months and now here she was. His Clara. He opened his eyes and looked at her, unable to resist, aware that she had drifted into sleep. His gaze roamed freely over her face, her long eyelashes and oddly shaped little nose. He would commit each feature to memory, he would lie there all night doing so in all probability, and it would be one of the most precious nights of his long, long life.

 


	4. Kaltragia

The Doctor felt distinctly more comfortable now that they were back on the TARDIS and although Clara had to remain within a few feet of him he was at least back in his own territory and not subjected to Christmas preparations. Over the course of the morning she had pottered round the flat tying a last few bows onto boxes, adjusting her nativity scene and to his utmost despair ordering her dad’s turkey online for delivery. Only after she had confirmed the order would she consent to boarding the spaceship and allowing him to continue his research into her necklace.

The thing itself had remained dormant, its blues and browns a little paler and less active but still very much there. Now and then Clara swore she could feel it ‘thrum’ against her skin but it was a pleasant subtle sensation at worst and she was content enough to sit in the leather armchair of the console room while the Doctor paced back and forth a little distance away, head bent over a text. She found it slightly amusing when he paced just a little too far and had to scurry back towards her with discomfort written all over his features.

‘I thought the museums on the planet had all the information we need?’ she asked when he showed no sign of emerging from his book.

‘It’s unreliable,’ he explained, ’altered by years of storytelling, we’re likely going to have to take it with a healthy pinch of salt. I want to read as much as I can before we get there just to make sure.’

‘Just to make sure what?’

‘That we get this right and undo the Binding.’

The Doctor finally closed the book and made to move down the steps to the console. He glanced up at her twitching his head in the direction of the controls. Clara huffed and pushed herself out of the armchair to follow him. ‘Thank you,’ he said a little impatiently.

‘Is it so bad being ‘bound’ to me?’ Clara mused absently. ‘I’m still not seeing the rush particularly, we could have Christmas together, a bit of down time…’

The Doctor was programming co-ordinates and hesitated. ‘What?’

‘Well is it such a chore being stuck in a room with me?’

‘Well… no…. but it’s not just a case of being forced to spend time together is it? It’s like we’re on the end of a rope. One which if you haven’t noticed has been getting shorter.’

‘Has it?’ Clara’s eyes widened a bit.

‘Yes, I’d suspected as much earlier but I’ve just been reading about it and it has confirmed my suspicions. It’s only going to get worse, Clara.’

‘Worse? Worse how? Because not meaning to steal your thunder here but it hasn’t been terrible really.’ She folded her arms about to defend herself from what she was sure would be a stream of disparaging remarks about pudding brains and Christmas and how really he had better things to be doing.

The Doctor finished the co-ordinates and pulled the lever before he replied. ‘The permitted distance between the bound couple varies according to the er… state of their relationship,’ he explained.

‘OK…’

‘The Binding ceremony itself is used to promote…’ he hunted for the right word, ‘How can I put it… union.’

‘Union?’ she asked blankly. The Doctor stared at her hard.

‘ _Union_ ,’ he said again.

‘Oh! That kind of union!’ Clara scrambled to catch up. ‘I see… wait no… I don’t see.’

The Doctor sighed and leaned against the console. ‘The necklace binds the couple together at the ceremony, think of it like a marriage ceremony. Now usually the couple wouldn’t know each other well or at all, the Kaltragians believed in arranged marriages. So the necklace is there to facilitate those first awkward days between the couple and then later ensure that the relationship endures.’

‘With you so far.’

‘It ties them together so they can’t be physically separated without pain, making them reliant on one another, forcing co-operation.’

‘OK,’

‘It encourages them to come closer, if they are hesitant or ‘shy’ by shortening that ‘rope’.’

‘So…’

‘So… if we’re not… _joining_ as we should be the rope gets shorter.’

‘And you think it is?’

‘Well as the person in this particular union who is experiencing the pain I can tell you that the distance has dropped from around three meters to more like two. And the necklace has been doing… other things.’

Clara scowled, ‘What other things?’

‘The glowing? The trance like states?’

‘Yes?’

‘They will become more frequent and more intense… the gem is trying to get us to… connect.’

Clara stared at him. ‘Connect as in…. _connect._ ’

‘Yes.’

‘Well it can’t force us to!’ she said.

‘That’s what I thought,’ the Doctor replied. ‘But after last night’s little incident with the massage I think we’d be foolish to think we weren’t dealing with something extremely powerful and primal.’

Clara swallowed, a confused mess of feelings moving through her. She could remember very clearly how tempted she had been last night even if it did feel like a dream in some ways. He was right, it could easily lead to more and she wasn’t entirely sure how she felt about that. She was trying to gather her thoughts more coherently when she heard the TARDIS engines spin and come to a halt.

‘Kaltragia,’ The Doctor announced.

‘Right, let’s go,’ Clara said with more than her usual level of determination. Whatever her own feelings she didn’t appreciate being subjected to ancient mind control.

‘Right, about that….’

‘Oh what now?’

The Doctor shifted looking uncomfortable with whatever it was he had to tell her. ‘Quite a hot environment Kaltragia,’ he started.

‘Yes?’

‘Might want to change out of your winter things.’

‘And?’

‘And there’s a dress code for females….’ He looked away.

Clara’s heart sank, ‘Why do I get the feeling I’m not going to like this?’

The Doctor winced a little and looked at her apologetically. ‘I’ve had the TARDIS make up a suitable garment…. As modestly as is possible within the regulations,’ he said.

 

XXXXXXXXX

‘How is this in any way modest?’ Clara spat at him as they walked across the burning sand of Kaltragia. She didn’t know where to place her hands to cover the most flesh and if that wasn’t bad enough she was sure her skin was sizzling under the planets three suns.

‘Well it does have a top half… of sorts,’ The Doctor waved in the general direction of her bust, ‘Most of them don’t, we’re pushing the rules as it is.’

‘And what exactly is the consequence of breaking the rules because I’m pretty sure I’ll cope with whatever it is rather than have to walk around in broad daylight with bits of me hanging out of a sleazy bikini made of gold string.’

The Doctor glanced over at her, ‘You’d be happier walking around at night?’

‘At least no-one would see!’

‘You look fine.’

‘I look naked!’

‘Which is fine. While we’re here anyway. Better you wear that than end up in the dungeon.’

‘Dungeon? What is this place? Is everything here kinky?’

The Doctor smirked a little, ‘Well actually quite a lot of it is. It’s a very er… sexually based culture.’

Clara narrowed her eyes at him, ‘Are you doing this deliberately?’

‘What? No! Why would I do that?’

‘Hmmph,’ she was quiet for a moment as they made their way towards what appeared to be a temple. ‘How come you’re dressed?’ she asked.

The Doctor looked down at his white shirt and black trousers. The only concession he had made was to undo his top three buttons and roll his sleeves up a little and that was purely because of the heat.

‘I’m not likely to overheat I have a more resilient metabolism than you. And besides the Kaltragians worship the female form not the male. And quite right too.’

‘I’m going to slap you in a minute.’

‘I’d rather you didn’t, I’m still smarting from the last time.’

‘Is this it?’ Clara nodded at the temple whose rich gardens they had now reached. They stretched out in lush green in sharp contrast to the desert outside.

‘Yes this is the museum of Ancient Kaltragia. Don’t worry Clara we’ll find some answers here.’

They paused for a moment outside the high doors to the old temple. It was built from what appeared to be yellow sandstone and at first glance reminded Clara of Egyptian tombs but she was quick to discover that it was here the similarity ended. Instead of perfect square blocks of stone the place seemed to have been built out of huge spheres and within these the doors had been carved in curving loops and bends. There were no hard edges to be seen. Everything about the designs swept and curved in opulent colours and shapes. She was beginning to see why the Doctor had remarked that the female form was worshipped by these people, everything here looked feminine and rounded.

‘Come on,’ the Doctor encouraged. Behind the openings of the doors Clara could see thick curtains hung to keep out the heat of the day. She followed him in and couldn’t help but sigh as the burning heat left her and was replaced with the cooler air of the museum, the curtains stroking over her skin sensually as she pushed through. She waited as her eyes adjusted to the dimmer light.

‘Hello?’ the Doctor called. Clara wandered by his side as he went in search of the curator. ‘Hello?’ Her eyes roamed over a few abstract carvings, again based on the female form, and one or two equally obscure paintings hanging high on the walls.

‘Hello can I help you?’ a voice from the back of what appeared to be a long hallway.

‘I certainly hope so,’ The Doctor said, ‘My name is the Doctor and this is Clara…’ she raised one hand in greeting in the vague direction of the voice. ‘We have a little problem with a Kaltragian Coupling Stone and…’

Suddenly light flared from in front of them blinding Clara for a moment as its colours burned from yellow to blue to pale green. She blinked and squinted through her fingers in the direction of a blueskinned alien male dressed in yet more golden ceremonial garb. He held a torch in one hand and now moved to light others around the room, occasionally casting glances back at the pair of them.

‘A Kaltragian Coupling Stone,’ he laughed softly, ‘friend, those are things of legend only.’

‘Well I beg to differ,’ the Doctor said pointed at Clara’s throat, ‘Care to have a look?’

The man put his torch into an empty wall rack and ambled across to meet them with the air of an expert merely pacifying a tourist.

‘There are very many copies of so called Kaltragian stones,’ he explained patiently, ‘People are charmed by their story, but the real things _if_ they ever did exist were long ago destroyed and even then…’ he stopped his eyes fixed on Clara’s necklace. ‘Deities,’ he whispered and looked between Clara’s eyes and the Doctors as though comparing the colours of them to those in the stone.

‘Well well, isn’t that the most unusual thing, the texts never mentioned the colours of the bearers eyes, our kind as you may see have very different anatomy…’ Clara squinted at him and realised that his eyes were entirely black, ‘But they do say,’ he went on, ‘That the essence of the bound couple souls meets and mingles in the stone. What a beautiful thing that is, when you see it as it is here...’

He reached toward the gem but it immediately began to glow and Clara felt compelled to take a step back, bumping hard into the Doctor’s body and feeling his arm wrap around her middle protectively. The alien man just smiled again and nodded as though he had half expected their reaction. ‘Could be real after all,’ he said.

‘So how do we get rid of it?’ the Doctor asked. He quickly removed his arm from Clara and shook his head a little.

The man’s eyebrows shot up. ‘Get rid of it?’ he exclaimed, ‘Why would you want to get rid of such a powerful thing? A thing which secures your relationship for all eternity, which binds your souls…?’

‘Well we weren’t exactly meaning to have our souls bound,’ Clara said, ‘It was an accident, he bought it for me as a welcome back gift and put it on me and now I can’t take it off. We weren’t you know…. Binding or Coupling or anything like that.’

The man looked at her with pity and then at the Doctor. ‘You haven’t read the legends have you?’ he asked.

‘I’ve read the legends,’ the Doctor confirmed, ‘or at least those available to me, there seem to be a great number of variants.’

‘There are, yes, but the originals are quite clear, you cannot be bound by accident. Can you imagine the difficulties our species would have run into if couples were forced together under protest? No there is no accident here…’ he looked at them meaningfully. Clara’s cheeks flushed.

‘Accident or no accident how do we take it off? How do we unbind?’ The Doctor said.

‘There are rare cases where the enchantment breaks,’ the man said, ‘Told of in fables. But I don’t think…. Looking at you…. They would apply.’

What does that mean?’ Clara asked.

The man just smiled.

‘Is there an unbinding ceremony,’ the Doctor tried, ‘a sort of Kaltragian divorce?’

‘The Gem decides the fate of the wearer, not the other way round,’ came his reply.

‘This is extremely unhelpful,’ The Doctor said, ‘This thing is getting more and more controlling, narrowing the distance between us, restricting our movements…’

The man looked between them for a moment puzzled, ‘You mean, you have not yet joined?’

Clara blushed deeper ‘No!’ she squeaked, ‘there is no joining.’

He laughed kindly, ‘Then it is no wonder the gem draws you tighter together. You defy its most basic wish. If you were to join, it would be satisfied and allow you a little more space.’

‘How much more space?’ Clara asked curiously.

‘Clara, that’s irrelevant, joining is not an option,’ The Doctor moaned.

‘The gem allows as much space as your relationship needs,’ the man said cryptically.

‘Well I need a lot more space,’ the Doctor grumbled.

‘The gem doesn’t think so,’ the blue man teased. He received a glare in recompense.

‘And that’s the only way?’ Clara asked. ‘This doesn’t make any sense, how did your species ever get anything done? Everyone going round joined at the hip?’

‘Loving couples who satisfy the needs of the gem are rewarded with their freedom,’ the man explained patiently, ‘And if that love ever begins to fade the gem works hard again to reunite them. It never forces…. It merely aids what is already there. It helps love find its potential.’

‘That’s rather pretty,’ Clara said.

‘Yes it is,’ the man agreed,

The Doctor actually rolled his eyes at that one and Clara couldn’t help but giggle. All this romance sat very uncomfortably with him.

‘So you said there were fables…’ the Doctor said, ‘That spoke of how to undo this?’

‘There are only two ways to undo the binding.’

‘Two? Two is even better,’ the Doctor said sensing he was getting somewhere.

‘The first is if the couple truly fall out of love with one another. If they on no level care for the other at all. It is almost impossible when bound to have such extremes of feeling. And looking at you… I would say it is not an option.’

The Doctors cheeks tinged a little pink. Clara squeezed his hand ‘Well we’re never going to hate one another are we?’ she reassured. ‘What’s option two?’

‘Please tell me it’s some sort of trial by fire and brimstone?’ the Doctor said.

‘I think you know what it is,’ the man replied looking at him meaningfully. The Doctor’s blush deepened.

‘Is it joining by any chance?’ Clara asked wearily.

‘No,’ said the man, ‘That alone is not enough to remove the necklace. I wonder though….’ He looked again between the two of them and down at Clara’s gem, ‘I wonder if maybe the second option might be possible for you.’

‘No,’ the Doctor said a little gruffly, ‘It isn’t. We’ll just have to find another way.’

‘There isn’t another way,’ the man said. Clara glared at the two men.

‘What are you on about?’ she asked, ‘Stop speaking in code.’

‘I’ll find one,’ The Doctor said staring hard at the man whose features once again fell into an expression of pity.

‘No,’ he said smiling sadly, ‘You won’t.’

 

 


	5. Take Your Medicine, Doctor

‘Well that was a waste of time,’ the Doctor said rather roughly banging open the TARDIS door and flopping heavily onto Clara’s couch. She followed at a short distance.

‘Can we discuss this after I’ve changed out of this ridiculous bikini thing?’ she asked, ‘Not only do I look like… like…‘ she gesticulated, ‘ _this_! But it’s freezing back here on earth and I’m cold.’

The Doctor glanced up at where she was standing over him, her exposed flesh goosepimpling in the cool air. ‘It’s not that bad,’ he appraised, ‘I mean it could be much worse…’ he let his eyes fall from her face and down over the length of her body. He hovered at the parts still barely covered by gold thread. The gem at her throat let off the faintest glow.

‘Stop that!’ she said quickly, ‘Stoppit! Look at the necklace. It’s like it’s been switched on by your… your _thoughts_ , dirty inappropriate thoughts.’

‘Clara! That’s not very fair,’ he protested but had the good grace to at least try to look away. Clara huffed and folded her arms across her chest.

‘Come to the bedroom I need to get changed and I don’t want to inflict pain on you… not at the moment anyway.’

He stood and suddenly was not only extremely close but extremely tall. Clara looked up at him feeling a little vulnerable and tussling with the urge to step in towards his body where at least she might find some warmth. She was dimly aware of the necklace glowing again at her throat.

‘Clara…’

‘Hmmm.’

‘The gem…’ he indicated weakly.

‘Mmm-hmm’ she couldn’t stop looking at his lips and found her hands snaking up his chest slowly, brushing the cotton of his shirt and teasingly looping fingers between buttons. The Doctor caught his breath at her touch.

‘Clara…’ she could hear he was trying to tell her to stop but she could feel that his hands had made their way to her scantily covered hips and his fingertips were pressed now into her soft curves. She rocked against him once and then dropped her eyes to his crotch.

‘Doctor…?’

He bent towards her and nosed at her hair, ‘Hmm?’

‘That’s not your sonic is it?’

‘No,’ and he actually chuckled. Clara looked back at him, suddenly warmer, fuzzier, more relaxed than she had been when they stepped out of the TARDIS. Now it was his turn to stare at her lips, hunger in his eyes leaning down to catch her breath in his mouth before taking that final step. The necklace flashed brightly between them and he drew back like he’d been stung.

‘No… no!’ he stepped backwards and nearly fell over the coffee table, ‘It’s at it again!’

Clara was still in a half dream state and rubbed her eyes in an attempt to clear it. ‘What happened?’ she asked.

He’d placed about three feet between them when he grimaced and clutched at his side.

‘Doctor!’

‘The rope just got shorter.’ His knees buckled. Clara took a step towards him.

‘Better?’

‘No…’ he was half kneeling on the floor now, more or less at her feet. Clara frowned.

‘You’re quite close, I’m not sure how much closer it wants me to get…. Well I mean I know how close it wants me to get…’

‘Ah!’ he panted and she had to admit he did sound like he was in quite a lot of pain.

‘You got a plan?’ she asked, bending to look at him now clinging onto the edge of the sofa with one arm and trying to steady himself. Beads of perspiration had broken out on his forehead.

‘I don’t think the necklace is appreciating our resistance,’ he wheezed.

Clara chewed her lip watching him. ‘It wants us to get closer right?’

‘Yes,’ the word came out as a puff of air. Clara knelt down with him and in a fluid motion wrapped her arms round him.

‘Clara!’

‘Shut up. A hug might help. It might pacify it.’

They sat for a moment, Clara running her hand down his back distractedly as she listen to him keen in discomfort. The necklace pulsed angrily at her throat.

‘You’re not fooling it,’ he said eventually. ‘It can sense platonic intent.’

‘Damn.’

‘Clara…

‘What?’

‘Kiss me.’

‘What?!’

‘Kiss me. I can’t think in this much pain. We’re going to be stuck like this until we appease the gemstone somehow and it might be enough to… ah…’ he flinched.

‘You sure?’

‘Yes!’

‘Um…’ Was she really contemplating this? Was she really feeling that flutter of excitement at the idea. Clara wrestled with herself for a moment longer.

The Doctor doubled over again and seemed to slide from the edge of the sofa further onto the ground. Clara looked at his suddenly pale face and with a decided breath leaned in.

The moment her lips touched his the tension seeped from him. She felt his arms come up around her and pull her into a more comfortable position, half leaning across his chest, supported by his lower body. Clara could feel the thrum of the necklace at her throat shift from one pitch to another and it seemed to settle again into a peaceful background beat. The Doctor grunted softly and she opened her mouth to him allowing his tongue to slide over hers slowly. They started a soft rhythm accentuated by the touch of each other’s hands on skin, the Doctor pushing his long fingers through her hair and cradling her face. He felt solid and strong around her and that fresh scent that followed him everywhere filled her lungs with each breath. He was dizzying and grounding at the same time. After minutes Clara pulled back needing air, settling back against his arms, her lips still so close to his. He regarded her warmly, still touching her face and neck with immeasurable gentleness.

‘Wow,’ Clara breathed, aware of the weight of the necklace against her chest and way its colours reflected in the Doctors eyes.

‘Wow,’ he breathed and she looked at him curiously.

‘You don’t seem like the ‘wow’ type,’ she said teasingly.

‘What does that mean?’ he feigned offence.

‘I mean you’re Mr Logical, Mr ‘that was one hell of a force field controlling us,’ you don’t go ‘wow’.’

‘Sometimes I do,’ he argued, ‘If it’s something very exceptional.’

‘A kiss doesn’t fall into your definition of exceptional.’

‘That one did,’ he looked at her quietly for a moment. Clara had to look away, necklace interference or not there was something too intense and bare about his eyes.

‘Do you think it worked?’ she asked.

‘Maybe, don’t know until we try and separate.’ They sat for a beat longer trying at the same to time to look at one another but also to avoid each other’s gaze. The Doctor also had to avoid looking anywhere along her body.

‘I’ll er… try and get changed then,’ Clara said suddenly conscious of her near nakedness. She stood but he didn’t move and she took some hesitant steps towards the bedroom. She got all the way to the door before he yelped. ‘Improvement,’ she commented as he leapt up.

‘Let’s not get too carried away,’ he warned. Clara caught his eye.

‘No,’ she said, ‘That would be….’ He was looking at her lips again. ‘I’ll just be on the other side of the door,’ she said hastily and disappeared into the bedroom.

 

XXXXXXXXX

Clara was filling in last minute Christmas cards on one end of the sofa while the Doctor paced impatiently behind her occasionally casting despairing glances at her handiwork. For the most part she ignored him which served only to irritate him further.

‘I cannot understand how you can just quietly sit there writing your season’s greetings when we’ve a crisis on our hands.’

Clara signed a card and started tucking it into its envelope. ‘It’s hardly a major crisis. As crises go this is rather mild for us. All we have to do is have the occasional snog and we’ll get through Christmas.’

‘The occasional…? Clara you’re not taking this seriously at all!’

‘What’s wrong with you now? You didn’t exactly hate it. ‘Wow’ you said.’ Clara leaned back and looked at him as he paced, ‘Or was it so awful you can’t bear the idea of repeating it?’

He stopped and glowered down at her. ‘That’s not what I’m saying. But we can’t just drip feed the necklace with kisses to ‘get through the Christmas period.’’

‘Why not? I’ve got family to visit, presents to deliver, _cards_!’ she said waving the latest card, ‘I promise I’ll give the necklace thing my whole attention after the 25 th but in the meantime we’ll just have to strike a balance.’

The Doctor rubbed his hand over his face, ‘It won’t be enough.’

‘What?’ Clara licked an envelope.

‘You saw what happened earlier. When I backed away it tightened the rope; we kissed, it lengthened it.’

‘Yes, my point exactly, we just kiss now and then, keep a reasonable length between us… I mean you’ll have to come to dad’s for dinner but we can work round that… maybe we can take some mistletoe with us, it would give us an excuse!’

‘It’s not going to be happy with just a kiss for much longer,’ the Doctor said somewhat urgently, ‘It’s going to expect _more_. That’s its whole reason for being.’

Clara let her head flop against the back of the couch again. ‘You think?’ she said wrinkling her nose. The Doctor perched next to her head and raised his eyebrows. ‘Oh,’ Clara replied, ‘I suppose that would be logical. How much more?’

‘Clara!’

‘Well I’m just exploring the options.’

‘Clara are you enjoying this?’ he asked suddenly, ‘Because you seem to be incapable of appreciating how inappropriate this is.’

‘I’m sorry I just….’ Clara stopped mid card, ‘You’re right actually, that is a bit odd. I mean I do feel quite relaxed about the whole thing all of a sudden…’ she frowned.

‘The Doctor cast his eyes heavenward. ‘There’s no point negotiating this with you Clara, clearly the necklace is affecting your feelings about the whole situation, its understandable really, you’re human and easily influenced. You’re just going to have to trust me.’

She looked down at the necklace to check if it was glowing and influencing her. It wasn’t. Her frown deepened. She really had rather enjoyed their kiss and if she was honest with herself was rather looking forward to having to have the next one. Did that mean she was under the spell of the necklace? She looked up at him suddenly struck by the lines of his long limbs as he half leaned half perched against the back of the couch. Maybe she was under a different spell entirely. OK, this complicated things.

He caught her looking and pushed away from the sofa, falling into the pattern of his pacing again.

‘Perhaps we should go back to ancient Kaltragia itself,’ he wondered out loud, ‘There might be some unbinding process which was never passed down through the generations. It’d be quite the journey I suspect, its thousands of years away, not just a quick hop across space….’

‘How long would it take?’

‘A few days.’

‘It’s Christmas!’

The Doctor turned and pointed at the time machine in the corner of the room, ‘TARDIS!’ he cried.

‘Yes and we know how accurate you are with programming that, you’ll probably overshoot Christmas day by a week. No I’m not missing out on the run up and the festivities. Ancient Kaltragia can wait.’

‘But Clara!’

‘No!’

‘You’re being impossible!’

Clara grinned and then licked another envelope, ‘That’s my name, Impossible Girl.’

‘You’re seriously going to make me sit through your family Christmas while at the same time leaving me at the beck and call of that gem?’

‘Yes, for a few days, yes.’

‘Control freak.’ The Doctor let out a growl and leaned heavily against the wall of the kitchen refusing to look at her. Clara giggled and picked up the next card.

‘You’ll know my Gran of course…’ she teased and received a sarcastic smile in return. ‘And dad, you’ve met dad. He wasn’t sure about Naked you but you’ve got a chance to do over this year….’ A sigh, ‘Then of course there’s _her_ , feel free to be rude to her, I always am, and this version of you is particularly great at the put downs so you can let rip…’ Clara looked up to find him bent at the middle his fingers digging into his thighs. He looked pale.

‘Rope tightening is it?’ she asked, ‘don’t be daft come here.’

‘No.’

‘Come closer you idiot.’

‘No.’

‘What you’re just going to put up with the pain? I thought it gets so bad you can’t think.’

‘It does.’

‘Well come here then!’ Clara put her cards to one side, ‘Oh for heaven’s sake!’ She got up and closed the gap between them pulling him back to the sofa and shoving him down into the seat. She returned to her cards while he sulked for a moment.

‘There shouldn’t be many others there,’ she said conversationally, ‘and I promise to protect you from too many questions. You’re going to get some funny looks, they’re bound to ask questions. I mean you look like my dad.’

The Doctor shot her an annoyed look.

‘I just mean rather than my boyfriend, not that you’re my boyfriend, but people will talk and …’

‘Clara shut up!’

‘Right I’ll do that,’ she said licking down another envelope.

‘And stop doing that!’ he snapped.

‘What?’

‘ _That_ , with the paper!’ he pointed at the envelope. Clara stuck her tongue out and slowly licked from side to side.

‘What, that?’ she asked coyly. He rolled his eyes at her.

‘Yes,’ he said, ‘stop it.’

‘But how am I supposed to finish my cards?’ she batted her eyelashes at him and he groaned in despair. He followed it with a groan of pain and rubbed at his side. Clara inched closer to him.

‘Want me to kiss it better?’ she asked sweetly.

‘Clara….’ The warning note in his voice didn’t go undetected.

‘Must be due a little kiss by now,’ Clara said looking at her watch. The Doctor rubbed his forehead and tried to edge along the sofa away from her only to wince in pain. She followed, placing a hand on his thigh.

‘Come on, take your medicine,’ she said playfully. He glanced over at her and down at the glow of the necklace.

‘Oh Gods,’ he said helplessly, tearing his eyes back up to hers and trying desperately not to just drown in them. Her smile intensified and her dimples mocked his willpower. She raised her eyebrows questioningly.

Well?’ she said.

‘Just… just make it quick,’ he said. Clara crawled onto his lap a moment later her mouth seeking his out insistently. It was almost an hour before they parted.

 

 

 

 


	6. Christmas Day

 

While he hadn’t suffered any pain that night he was nonetheless bound by the magic of the necklace to sleep in Clara’s bed and that came with its own problems. Firstly sleep had been hard to come by after sixty minutes of deep kissing on her sofa earlier that evening and secondly when he had drifted off he had woken to find their bodies entwined, drawn to one another in sleep and reacting in ways that he could only continue to describe as unsuitable. When it happened for the third time he hauled himself reluctantly out from under the covers and forced himself to sit in a chair by Clara’s bedside for the rest of the evening lest he lose control of himself. He hurt and he noticed as he glanced over at her that the necklace was glowing mockingly at him. By the time Christmas morning arrived he was tense tired and frustrated.

Clara wasn’t much better and she seemed to be losing the amusement she had found the day before at the necklace’s properties. Yes it had all been fun and games then but waking up repeatedly frustrated and needy had taken the shine off the situation. She peeked out from under the covers and eyed the Doctor. He looked in pain, uncomfortable at best. This was getting trickier by the minute. The necklace was pushing them further and further away from their own particular comfort zones and although Clara as its wearer was feeling increasingly relaxed about that she could see that he wasn’t. The Doctor was flipping from panting hungrily against her neck to stalwartly trying to resist her every move and it driving her crazy. She didn’t want this to end messily but if she didn’t have him soon she might explode. And she had Christmas to get through first. As it was she had to go for a shower, preferably a cold one, and the necklace wasn’t going to let her until they’d kissed again at least. The Doctor had been right it was getting more demanding.

Clara crossed to where he was sitting in the chair with one hand over his face. He was trying she knew very hard not to look at her in her camisole. In her head she made a decision and that decision was that she was going to take him by surprise. Spurred on by a warm flash from the necklace she leaned over and grabbed both his forearms and before he could protest she was straddling him in the chair.

‘What..?! ’ he objected.

‘I need to go for a shower, so I need to set you up to make sure you aren’t in agony while I’m in there.’

‘I think I’ll be in agony anyway,’ he grumbled and she felt him harden rapidly under her. The sensation was unexpected and surprisingly pleasant for both of them although once again she could see him fighting it. Clara wriggled and he let out a strained puff of air. ‘Oh Gods Clara please don’t.’ It was a tone she hadn’t heard from him before and it stopped her in her tracks briefly. She tentatively rocked her hips forward again aware of the moisture which was pooling between her legs and soaking through the light material of her pyjamas. The Doctor groaned fully this time in a tone at least an octave deeper than usual. Clara felt herself flush.

‘Doctor this is ridiculous,’ she said, ‘There’s no way we’re going to get through the day like this, let’s be adults and address the problem,’ she ground her hips again this time drawing gasps from both of them. He looked up at her with absolute fire in his eyes.

‘Clara, don’t…’

‘I want to…’

‘We shouldn’t,’

‘You want to...’ she said pointedly as she felt him become fully aroused.

‘You’re not thinking straight….’

‘I don’t care,’ another rock of her pelvis, he shut his eyes tight but his hands reflexively came up to grip her hips and on impulsive guided her movement, once, twice, grinding her into him. Clara responded with an uncontrollable jerk against him. ‘Doctor, please let me….’ Her hand was moving down his stomach now and she shifted back a little on his thighs so that she could reach his belt. He looked away even as she flicked the catch open and undid his trousers, her movements shaky with need and nerves. She was really going to do this and she wasn’t sure what was in control, her own mind or the necklace, but it felt good and right, and it was the Doctor and that was all she needed to know right now. She slipped her fingers inside his clothing and when her hand wrapped around him he bucked hard up into it unable to hold back a shout.

‘Clara, no…’ he muttered softly.

Clara ran her fist slowly down the length of him, her thumb trailing over the tip as she drew her hand back up. She felt a thrill of desire run through her as he growled against her, noises which grew louder quickly and she sped up her movements. He wasn’t going to last long and she felt herself burning, swollen and close to the edge just from the feel and sound of him so near to his release. He had been keeping his face averted, unable to look at her but suddenly his hands were at her waist and she lost her rhythm for just a moment as he gripped her flimsy pyjama bottoms and pulled, ripping them along one seam. Clara squeaked in surprise but then quickly surrendered in an open mouthed gasp as his hand brushed between her legs and hit the spot she was aching for him to touch. His gaze flicked up and held hers, blazing, mesmerised by the depth of her pupils and the heated glow of her cheeks, her hair falling into her eyes. She drove her hips forward and he slipped against her, one finger entering her easily while his thumb pressed against her most sensitive spot and began a steady circular movement in line with the rhythm she used on him.

He looked away as the sensation became almost too much and Clara felt herself tighten hard around him. She pumped him harder, suddenly aware of the soft wet noises both of their bodies were making. With his free hand the Doctor gripped onto her, holding her secure as she bucked against him and she reached to wrap her hand around the back of his neck bringing their foreheads together. Clara called out hard, her lungs screaming as she climaxed in time to feel him spurt hotly across her stomach and chest with an unrestrained shout. With him panting against her she slowed her movements and held him as he softened until his skin became too sensitive and he shifted under her touch.

Neither said a word for long minutes. Clara kept one hand in his hair afraid he might pull away and vanish, the other still resting on his stomach. Between them the necklace’s gem swirled its colours softly, casting stars into the pupils of their eyes.

‘Clara…’

She nuzzled against his neck reluctant to let go.

‘Clara,’ he breathed again and leaned back from her. She looked at him in concern but he simply looked back at her peacefully.

‘You’re not going to tell me that was very inappropriate?’ she asked.

‘Oh it was very inappropriate,’ he replied, ‘But I think…. Entirely justifiable… probably… given we have a whole day to get through at your father’s place.’ His eyes sparkled mischievously. Clara smirked.

‘Doctor, could it be that you’re feeling more relaxed about this necklace thing today….?’

He looked down at it, ‘Cursed thing,’ he muttered, ‘Cursed, evil, _inappropriate_ thing.’ He looked back up at her, ‘I refuse to let it defeat me I will find a way to take it off you but…’

‘But…?’

‘But it may take some time,’ he answered with a barely in check grin.

Clara laughed out loud and leaned forward to kiss him.

‘Clara… Clara… please,’ he said, ‘You might want to take that shower.’

She looked down at the mess between them. ‘Well you might want some new clothes.’ She slipped off his thighs and made her way to the bathroom. ‘Any pain? She called over her shoulder when she had put a good few metres between them. The Doctor just laughed and unbuttoned his shirt. It was only when the shower door clicked shut and Clara was a distance from his slowly recovering body that the anxiety twisted between his hearts.

XXXXXXXXXX

They had parked the TARDIS around the corner from her father’s house to provide them with a rapid escape route should it be needed for reasons of mystical necklace or family feud. The Doctor was once again laden with bags, this time full of Clara’s prettily wrapped gifts. Although his mood was considerably better than it had been upon waking that morning it was darkening by the moment as they walked up the drive to the front door; a combination of sickening Christmas festivities and growing concern that he and Clara were crossing a very important and arguably unwise line.

‘Just act normal,’ Clara was saying lowly, ‘Like you’re not an alien, like Christmas is enjoyable and you’re a warm friendly human be… individual.’

The Doctor scowled at her but kept his grumbles under his breath. He honestly didn’t know if he was coming or going at the moment. He could feel the necklace’s pull but it was mixed with something else less easy to distinguish and which filled him with something like fear. What was real and what wasn’t, he could no longer make it out. He’d always known he had some level of feeling for Clara that much was obvious, but he had gradually buried as much of it as he could to try to be the honourable man, and with doing that he had hoped parts of it had died. Now this necklace was reanimating those feelings again from the grave and lacing them with its irresistible pull.

And with the necklace around her throat there was nothing stopping them. Clara was as filled with desire as he was, Danny was gone and the pair of them were riding on the emotions of their recent reunion. It was all getting rather out of control. He’d tried to stop this morning and he couldn’t, she’d encouraged him on but he still should have had enough discipline to stop. All he could feel was her touch, all he could see was her face, her eyes. She surrounded him, controlled him, he’d come undone with a few movements of her hands. In those few minutes afterwards he had felt peaceful and content but the significance of it all was weighing on him now, now that the necklace’s spell had retreated a little. The Doctor had done the unforgivable as far as his current incarnation thought, he’d left himself exposed and vulnerable and he knew that path led in only one direction.

What if he found a way to remove the necklace and Clara stopped feeling how she apparently felt? What if he did and she didn’t? What if they just ended up inflicting more pain on one another? Why oh why had he just given in that morning? He stopped a few feet from the door.

‘You ok?’ Clara said from the doorstep, ‘Do you need a quick kiss?’ she whispered.

‘I’m fine, really,’

Clara took his hand and pulled him up beside her giving him a peck on the cheek anyway as she did so. The little gesture tugged at his hearts.

‘Just get through the day,’ Clara said pressing the doorbell, ‘We’ll worry about the other stuff later.’

Oh if only it was that simple.

‘Clara!’ Dave Oswald opened the door and threw his arms wide for his little girl, he squeezed her in a bear hug then stood back to admire her, ‘You look better,’ he said, ‘Been worried about you kid, you know since….’ He looked across at the Doctor, ‘Oh you brought a… friend.’

The Doctor levelled his eyebrows at him instinctively.

‘Dad this is…. John,’ the eyebrows swung round to her and quirked. ‘He’s a friend from work, he’s…. the Caretaker!’ she hazarded. The Doctor glared at her. ‘He’s been looking out for me recently.’

‘That’s good of you John, Clara’s had a rough year, did you know Danny?’

‘Yes,’ he replied glancing at Clara, ‘Yes I did, it was a terrible thing to happen,’ his voice held no trace of sarcasm or deception. Clara squeezed his hand briefly.

‘John hasn’t any family, and he’s rather a long way from home… I didn’t think you’d mind seeing as he’s been so good to me.’

Dave smiled and opened the door wide, ‘You’re very welcome, come in.’ The Doctor shot another pained looked at Clara before following her inside. Dave removed the bags from him and handed and them to a rather severe looking woman who peered disdainfully into them before retreating back into the living room. Clara looked at the Doctor and mouthed ‘her.’

Dave didn’t appear to notice and ushered the pair of them through to be seated in front of the fire while the gifts were unpacked and distributed under the tree. Clara took care to sit close enough to the Doctor to be within touching distance but far enough away that her father wouldn’t start asking awkward questions. She watched as the Doctor manfully fended off chit chat and small talk. He actually did quite well and she smiled to herself a little relieved. Maybe he wasn’t a complete social illiterate after all. After a while Clara’s Gran appeared at the front door and with her particular brand of warmth lightened the proceedings considerably. She seemed once again quite taken with the Doctor, clothes or no clothes and as the level of sherry in the bottle fell her flirtatiousness increased.

‘Mum, that’s enough,’ Dave stooped to the base of the Christmas tree and began handing out gifts in order to distract her, ‘The poor man barely knows us.’

The Doctor was standing with his back to the fire having narrowly escaped Gran’s wandering hand and being forced to give up his seat to escape. Clara shot him an apologetic look of such mortification that he had to bite his tongue not to laugh. Instead he took a sip of his own drink and pretended to have great interest in the flames.

‘Here,’ Clara cut of Gran half way over to the fire, ‘I got you something,’ she smiled merrily pulling her towards the tree and rummaging to find the little box with the amber necklace.

‘Oh thank you dear, you’re such a good girl. It has to be better than that royal jelly your dad got me,’ she gave him a bitter withering look, ‘I’ve only been his mother fifty three years and he still can’t get it right.’

The elderly lady opened the box carefully and let out a little noise of polite delight at the gift. ‘Just like the one we used to have,’ she said, ‘Except doesn’t it shine bright. Oh John be a dear and put it on me?’ she motioned at the Doctor to link the chain around her neck.

The look of horror he shot her was unmistakable. Clara stepped between them, catching his eye and his somewhat unsubtle but frantic hand waving in the general direction of ‘no.’

‘Let me Gran,’

‘But…’

‘No really I don’t think you should be asking our guest, anyway I got it for you!’ she popped the necklace on Gran and looked over at the Doctor who was wearing an expression akin to someone watching a natural disaster unfold.

‘Clara,’ he said after a few minutes, ‘A word,’ and he ushered her from the room. In the hallway he hissed at her, ‘The necklace, why did you give her the necklace?’

‘It’s not one of _those_ necklaces!’

‘How do we know? We didn’t know that one was one of those necklaces,’ he said pointing at hers.

‘She’s an old lady, anyway even if it is one of those necklaces she’s not about to Bind to her own granddaughter that’s just icky.’

The Doctor sighed, ‘We don’t know what we’re dealing with here. It may not be a Coupling necklace but it could be any number of Kaltranian Fertility Stones or Ritual Gems.’

Clara looked at him and then glanced into the living room, ‘Well if it is you should watch yourself she only has eyes for you.’

‘Must run in the family…’ he quipped, Clara blushed.

‘How are you feeling anyway… Any twinges?’

‘No I’m fine.’ Clara surveyed him.

‘Sure?’

‘Yes.’

‘Definitely OK?’

‘Yes Clara I’m fine,’ he frowned at her, ‘Why?’

‘Just wanted to treble check. You know make absolutely certain you were fine before dinner. Dinner can be a long affair.’ Behind her she was conscious of her father moving through into the kitchen to help with final preparations. ‘I’d say we have half an hour or so before it’s on the table. Wouldn’t want any… symptoms to return and make things awkward for us.’

‘Clara the necklace,’ he flicked his eyes down to it before returning them to her face.

‘I know…’ she whispered the glow illuminating her slightly. The Doctor swallowed.

‘Let me show you the house,’ Clara said loudly, ‘Give you a tour.’

‘Clara…’ he hissed.

‘This is the hall…’ she said, ‘And this is…. The coat cupboard,’ and she flung the door open and bundled him inside.

There was a pause.

‘Clara it’s rather dark in here.’

‘Yes.’ The light from the necklace gave her face eerie shadows.

‘I really do feel fine.’

‘Good.’

‘I….’ her lips covered his suddenly and Clara pushed him into the soft coats at his back. He made a choked noise before sighing into her mouth. She kissed him hard for a few moments before pulling away, running her hands down his sides to his hips. He heard her giggle and found it infectious but steadfastly refused to let even the slightest puff of amusement past his lips. What was he doing? He was in a cupboard with Clara and she was kissing him. He’d just spent the last hour absently being polite to her family while inwardly berating himself for this morning’s _occurrence_ and now he was setting himself up for it all to happen again. The Doctor leaned his head against the coats and stared into the dark aware of her warm body against him and tried to place his thoughts elsewhere.

‘We could just stay in here,’ Clara whispered conspiratorially.

‘I think your family would notice.’

‘Not after a few more sherries.’

‘Clara…’

‘OK…’ she huffed and there was a click, the door swinging open and light flooding the cupboard. ‘Coasts clear!’ she skipped out ahead of him.

‘Ridiculous girl,’ he groaned and escaped after her, heading for the dining room and the next torturous part of Christmas day.

XXXXXXXXXXX

 

The food wasn’t bad he had to concede but by the God’s he wasn’t sure if he could cope with much more Christmas and to add to it the pain had started to return in the last hour despite his close proximity to Clara. He just prayed she didn’t decide to go to the bathroom or have a private chat with her father at any time soon or he would be crippled, and crippled in the company of others to boot. He could see Clara watching him from the corner of his eye, ever observant and he knew he was no good at hiding things from her these days. All the lies he had ever told in the past had prepared her for any he might tell now and she could see through him like glass.

As her step mother began to clear plates she motioned for Clara to help and without a good excuse not to she was forced to apologise with her eyes and vanish into the kitchen. The Doctor was immediately hit with a wave of pain and nausea so strong that Gran looked quite alarmed and rushed to his side.

‘Oh you poor thing are you alright? Did you have little too much at dinner?’ she patted his arm soothingly. The Doctor sat back in his chair and prayed the room would stop spinning or that Clara would come back, one or the other. Sadly neither happened very quickly and by the time she extracted herself the sweat was running down his temples. She shooed her grandmother out of the way and with difficulty dragged him out into the hall again.

‘Clara, we need to leave,’ he said, somewhat relieved she was at least by his side but suffering nonetheless.

‘Ok, leave, yes we can do that, all the main bits are done.’

‘Clara! Are you joining us for the film?’ Dave called through.

‘Do not do this to me,’ The Doctor breathed, his eyes slightly wild.

‘Um… that’s nice of you dad but we need to be going…’

‘Going…’ he emerged into the hall with them casting a curious glance over a rather stricken looking Doctor, ‘It’s Christmas why would you need to go anywhere? You’re home. Stay tonight pet I barely see you these days,’ he beckoned her over to a corner. The Doctor attempted not to crumple against the stairs.

‘If you and your… ‘friend’ want to share a room that’s OK by me, whatever is giving you a little happiness, he seems nice enough,’ he looked over, ‘I mean a bit on the old side but none of us are getting any younger, ha ha…’ he looked awkward and then concerned, ‘he’s a bit green round the gills though, can he not handle his wine?’

‘Dad!’ Clara’s outraged embarrassment made her tone a little harsher than she had meant it to be.

‘Sorry,’ he chuckled, ‘Just trying to be modern about it.’

‘Dad, can you just... just give us a minute will you.’

‘Sure thing,’ and he disappeared into the front room again.

‘Tell me we are going back to the TARDIS now,’ The Doctor said breathlessly.

‘Um….’ Clara was about to respond when the necklace thrummed hard at her throat and she felt the heat radiate out of it. The glow coming off it was practically radioactive in intensity and she grabbed it instinctively away from her chest. Her eyes widened and then she looked at the Doctor leaning against the bannisters and holding his side.

‘I didn’t finish the tour,’ she said quickly and grabbed his hand, ‘Come with me.’ Clara pulled him up the stairs and took the first left into her old room, shutting the door quickly behind them and latching it. The Doctor cast a minimal glance around him, taking note of a number of stuffed toys and a rather odd poster of Marcus Aurelius. He was about to make some sort of derisory comment when the light from the necklace caught his eye again and a familiar slightly fuzzy feeling came over him.

‘Clara we are in your father’s house,’ he said backing away from her.

‘Yes and you look awful and I have just the thing to make you feel better.’

‘Clara! No! Not this, this is a step too far.’

She advanced on his the necklace humming against her skin.

‘I can’t just up and leave, Doctor its Christmas, it looks odd, why would I leave my dad and Gran who I love dearly to spend Christmas by myself or with the local caretaker? No we can’t go anywhere. We need to sort this out like we did this morning and then go back downstairs.’

‘Like… we did this morning?’ he said.

‘Or similar according to whatever the necklace wants this time.’

The Doctor doubled over suddenly the pain spasming through his gut and taking his breath away.

‘What have you got in mind?’ he said weakly.

Clara smiled and wrapped her arms around him.

 

 

 


	7. Remember

 

This third night of enforced closeness wasn’t nearly as bad as the preceding one, he concluded while lying on Clara’s childhood bed. Beside him she was curled under the covers deeply asleep with the faintest smile on her lips. He made a conscious effort not to glance over and reminded himself that today they would escape her parental home and get back to the TARDIS and ultimately start the journey out to Kaltragia. He was almost back onto safe adventuring territory with a nice solid goal of removing the pesky necklace.

The pesky necklace that might or might not be responsible for how he felt when his eyes were inevitably drawn towards her even when he had just told himself explicitly not to do that and…

… well there she was. Stirring now in the half light of Boxing Day morning. Shuffling in her sleep towards him and wrapping an arm round his torso.

The Doctor looked resolutely back at the ceiling. Necklace? Or not necklace? There was no sign of the tell tale glow coming from it and he wasn’t doubled over in pain either, suffused as he still was with a feeling of immense satisfaction. He felt himself blush at the memory. He’d given in again last night and very quickly too, to her touch and her lips and the little breathy noises she made in his ear as she…

Stop that.

He looked back at her and fought the urge to wrap her up in his arms. It wasn’t just about the carnal side. If it was he really could blame some spell or unseen force. The warm sense of satisfaction he felt came from having her close to him, vulnerable but trusting, small and feminine and tapping into something deep within him that longed to care for someone.

No, this needed to be sorted. Kaltragia was a couple of days away even by TARDIS but then he could get to work and solve this mystery and put them both back to normal. Except maybe it was too late to be normal. Maybe the damage was done. He felt confused and he hated feeling confused it was very unlike him. He didn’t know what he wanted anymore but increasingly there was a bit of him saying to hell with the trip keep the necklace around her neck and be done with. As Clara had pointed out as she had drifted off in his embrace last night, they seemed to be managing the situation just fine.

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of Clara coming back to consciousness.

‘Mmm,’ she said and felt across his chest. ‘You have clothes, why have you got clothes?’ She sat up a little blinking away sleep. ‘And why aren’t you under the covers with me?’

‘Clara…’

‘Oh I see you’ve gone all weird again, we did a thing and now you’re weird again,’ she fell back against the pillow and stared at the ceiling, ‘That doesn’t leave me feeling very good you know.’

‘It’s awkward both ways.’

‘Only because you make it awkward. I don’t have an issue with it… which is weird too but I don’t.’

The Doctor sighed. ‘It’s… confusing, I’m confused.’

Clara looked over at him, ‘About?’

‘This!’

‘Care to be a bit more… explainy?’

He felt her gaze heavy on him and rubbed his hands over his face. ‘Ugh, I think this is actually making my brain hurt.’

She laughed then. ‘Enormous Time Lord Brain crippled by little human emotions.’

‘That’s about the sum of it, yes,’ he let his hands drop to his sides again. Clara pulled herself up and leaned over him.

‘You’re really not very good at this are you?’ she said.

The Doctor looked offended. ‘Apparently not.’

‘It’s OK you’re good at other things,’ Clara trailed her hand down his stomach idly.

‘Clara for heaven’s sake!’

‘What?’

‘Again?’

‘Why not?’

‘Well for starters I’m not in any pain.’

‘Even better then we can just do it for fun, maybe we could go a bit further…’

‘Clara!’

She sighed and threw back the covers. ‘Oh alright then have it your way, but don’t come crawling to me half way through breakfast when you start cramping up and this thing starts shining like a glowworm at the table,’ she pointed at the necklace, ‘Don’t say I didn’t offer!’

‘Breakfast?’

‘Boxing day tradition.’ Clara stripped off her pyjamas.

‘This is endless,’ he moaned trying not to look.

‘We can leave after breakfast, promise.’ Clara glanced at him, pyjama top in hand. ‘You can look you know, you’ve seen them before, I took this off last night…’

‘Shut up,’ he said hand over his face. Clara rolled her eyes.

‘Ok, we’ll play the ‘it’s the necklace not me game,’’ she replied, ‘And maybe it _is_ the necklace but I wish you’d just relax a bit.’

‘Like you, you mean?’

‘Yes.’

‘You don’t think you’re a bit, too relaxed?’

‘One of us has to be,’ she remarked.

‘You honestly don’t have any… qualms about what we’ve been doing?’ he asked peering at her through his fingers.

‘Nope. I admit it was a bit odd at first but I honestly can’t get worked up about it,’ she hesitated, ‘Well not worked up like _that_ anyway. It feels… natural.’

‘Does it?’

‘It doesn’t to you?’

He sighed. ‘Yes. It feels natural. But it isn’t natural, its necklace induced and that means…’

‘What? It means what?’ She reached for her jeans.

‘It means it will come to an end,’ he said quietly, ‘It’ll end and our friendship will alter and we’ll both be left feeling awkward and everything will change.’

Clara stopped buttoning her shirt and sat on the bed by him. He refused to look at her as she studied his face or even when she laid her hand between his two heartbeats.

‘You’re frightened,’ she said, a statement not a question.

‘I’m terrified,’ he replied.

‘Do you really think I care about you so little…’ she said softly, using his own words deliberately, ‘That I’d let something as small as a necklace come between us?’

The Doctor looked up at her hesitantly.

‘Remember what the man on Kaltragia said,’ she continued, ‘There has to be something between the couple for the necklace to work with in the first place. Some link, some level of attraction. The difference between you and I is that deep down I’ve always been a bit more comfortable with that idea than you have.’ Clara leaned over and kissed him on the forehead, ‘Come on, breakfast.’

Before he could reply the door rattled and in a flurry of knocking and ‘good mornings’ someone resembling Clara’s Gran entered in a bid to chivvy them along for the meal.

‘Hello my dears, are you up?’

Clara looked over her shoulder and her eyes widened.

‘Gran?’

‘Yes, dear?’

Clara nudged the Doctor’s leg and he peered past her sitting up slightly on the bed. The until recently elderly woman looked back at him, straight backed and bright eyed, her amber necklace shining at her throat.

‘Are you OK?’ Clara asked.

‘Wonderful, dear. Woke up this morning full of the joys. Feel quite different in fact, no aches for the first time in months and well… when I looked in the mirror! Would you believe it?’

‘Frankly, no,’ the Doctor said giving Clara a look of despair, ‘I warned you… it’s a Fertility Stone or an Eternal Youth stone or something…’ he whispered.

Clara looked back at her Gran and smiled, ‘You look twenty years younger,’ she said.

‘I do… but I feel twenty years younger than that,’ and the now youthful Gran bent to get a glimpse of the Doctor behind her granddaughter and gave him a lascivious wink.

‘What do you say we skip breakfast?’ he asked Clara with more than a little panic in his eyes.

 

XXXXXXXX

‘Stop that a girl could get jealous,’ Clara ordered from the door of the TARDIS. The Doctor glanced up at her from where he was bent mid kiss to the console of his beloved time machine. ‘I know you’re glad to be back but that’s ridiculous.’ He reluctantly withdrew his lips and straightened about to make some form of caustic reply when the air rushed out of him all at once and he clutched at his abdomen. Clara looked smug. ‘My necklace doesn’t approve of your infidelity,’ she quipped before taking pity on him and approaching him to ease the pain.

‘Your necklace’s days are numbered,’ he growled at it but allowed her to wrap an arm around his back as he fiddled with the controls. ‘Right now we are about to be _en route_ to Kaltragia, _Ancient_ Kaltragia and we’re going to find some answers,’ he continued to speak to the jewellery.

‘Doctor it isn’t sentient,’

‘Isn’t it?’ he leaned back a little getting a better look at it, ‘Could have fooled me. It reads emotion doesn’t it?’

‘I suppose, yeah I suppose it does.’

‘It interferes and meddles…’

‘Just like the TARDIS,’ Clara commented and the time machine let off an angry whine.

‘The TARDIS does not meddle,’ the Doctor patted it gently, ‘She looks out for me. _That_ on the other hand… it intrudes interferes and manipulates.’ He pulled a lever and the TARDIS engines started up. Clara peered at the navigation screen, it certainly was very far away in time and space, they were going to have a lot of time to pass.

‘So we’re looking for an unbinding ceremony or something…’ Clara said.

‘Yes, or something,’ the Doctor bent over the console and watched the stars on his screen. Clara let her hand wander up and down his back.

‘Have you thought any more about what I said before?’ she asked. ‘About us being attracted to each other before this came along?’

The Doctor sighed, almost irritated. ‘I’m trying not to think. Thinking is hurting my head.’

‘You’re still fighting it aren’t you?’

‘And you’re not?’ he looked at her.

‘No, not now. Initially yes, but not now. Now I just want to….’

‘What? What do you want? Because whatever it is probably isn’t very wise.’

‘What’s the worst that can happen?’

‘Don’t ask that,’ he replied sadly. ‘We’re going to remove this and then…’

‘Then what if I feel the same way?’ Clara asked. ‘What if this necklace has just highlighted to me something that was already there and I take it off and feel just the same about you?’

The Doctor swallowed and looked away from her. ‘Then I suppose we deal with that,’ he said.

‘Deal with it, what does that mean? It’s not some sort of weird alien infestation that needs _dealt_ with!’

‘Clara I don’t want to talk about this at the moment!’ he snapped, his head feeling as though it might burst.

‘Neither do I, I don’t want to have to talk about it at all, I’d rather be making love with you but as you insist on being so tortured about the whole thing we can’t do that can we?’ Clara exploded. The Doctor looked at her in horror.

‘You’d rather be… Clara… no… this is going too far. You are completely intoxicated by that thing and we need to put a stop to this. Go and find your room and stay there until we land.’

‘Go to my room? I’m not a child!’

‘I know that!’

‘And anyway how are you going to cope with me in my room? You’ll be in agony. Or will you just _deal_ with that too?’

The Doctor shot her a thunderous look.

‘I will manage,’ he said lowly.

‘Nice to know,’ Clara said hotly, ‘Nice to know I’m just another little problem for you to manage. Just an irritant to be dealt with, a little mystery that triggers a quick trip across the universe and an interesting adventure for you. Nice to know you care so much. I’m trying here I really am. I know this is uncomfortable and difficult for you, I know you find all this emotional stuff incredibly hard but this is torture!’ At her neck the necklace began its low thrumming and glowed brightly. The Doctor glared at it and unconsciously tried to take a step back causing Clara to flare angrily at him. ‘Why do you have to be so desperate to sever this tie between us Doctor? Why when for months on end all I’ve thought about is seeing you again? Do you have any idea what this is doing to me? Wanting you so badly, perhaps realising that I always have and you’re right there, right within arm’s reach and you’re pushing me away!’

The Doctor set his jaw and steadied himself against the console the pain building in his body in response to the throb of the necklace and Clara’s voice. Gods how he wished it could be that simple, that he could just take her in his arms and that would be the end of it. But it was complex, so complex; time and humanity and need and love. He wrestled with himself, he didn’t know how to explain, didn’t know if he understood it himself, but he knew she was staring at him now filled with anger and desire in equal measure and he could just feel the link between them so strong on one level begin to crumble just as he had predicted it would if they ever strayed across that line. And he realised in a rush what it was that he was afraid of and what stopped him giving her what she wanted now. He would lose her, he was sure, one way or another.

‘Doctor!’ she said again in frustration.

‘Go to your room,’ he said quietly, the fear mounting.

‘No! I won’t let you do this to me… I…’

‘Get out!’ he roared suddenly and she reeled back as though he had struck her, her breath in her throat. ‘Just… Get out,’ he said again in hushed tones and turned his back on her. Clara’s eyes stung as she watched him for a moment and then he heard her turn and run from the console room. As she left his legs buckled under the pain.

XXXXXXX

It was unbearable. The Doctor had managed to drag himself to the door of the console room in an effort to close the gap between them but he refused to go further out of sheer stubbornness. Down the hall he knew the TARDIS had shifted Clara’s room as close as it could but even so there was quite the distance between them and it was enough to send shards of burning ice through his muscle every time he moved. His whole body shook from the tension of holding it as still as he could, slowing his breathing down and taking the shallowest of inhalations. The sweat trickled down his cheeks and pooled at his throat, his shirt sticking damply to his back and chest. It was as much as he could do not to sob with the pain, but he knew that would only make it worse.

He was an idiot, he decided, a fearful cowardly idiot who was flailing about his own subconscious trying to think logically about the irrational. Clara, he knew, was right. She usually was despite his greater education and intelligence she had the edge when it came to common sense and practicality and feelings. She also knew him better than anyone ever had, having experienced so many of his previous selves in so many of her own echoes. She had seen the very best and worst of him and she still professed to… to what? Love him? Was that what this was all about?

The Doctor took a deeper and more shuddering breath and tried to adjust his position against the wall, struggling to gather his weight on his hands and falling back against it with a sharp hiss. She was right there, a few metres down the hall, warm, loving, waiting for and wanting him and yet here he was refusing, denying himself, denying her, telling them both that somehow it wasn’t right, shouldn’t be.

Well what if it just was? What if it just was and there was nothing he could do about it except let it be?

He closed his eyes and tried breathe through the pain again, focusing down on it and trying to expel it through his lips. There, maybe he could control it a little. It dimmed just a touch and he breathed again slowly, gathering the ache when he inhaled and exhaling it away. Down another notch.

‘Are you really going to sit on the floor all night pretending you can cope with the pain?’ Clara said from above him and his eyes shot open. He wasn’t controlling the pain at all, she was just nearer. She stood in her night things and appraised him. ‘Because you look awful, and I feel awful, and this is stupid,’ she said.

He looked up at her somewhat hopelessly. Clara held out her hand, ‘Come on,’ she said, ‘Stop being an idiot.’

He hesitated for a second before taking it and she hauled him up, steadying him as he swayed.

‘Clara….’

‘I don’t want to talk. I refuse to talk. That’s your problem, too much talking and thinking and complicating things…’ he went to open his mouth and she shushed him, ‘Enough,’ and she tugged on his hand guiding him through to her TARDIS bedroom. She sat him on the end of her bed and began undoing his damp shirt muttering such flattering terms as ‘idiot’ under her breath as she did so. The sharp pain started to dull as she touched him, her hands stroking under his clothes as she undressed him. The Doctor felt his muscles start to ease and his shoulders slumped a little. Clara, kneeling in front of him having undone his boots, looked up at his face and caught his eye at last.

‘Idiot,’ she said again more loudly.

‘Yes,’ he agreed and she smiled.

‘No thinking,’ she warned.

‘I’ll try.’

Clara pushed her hands along the tops of his thighs and placed herself between his knees while he stroked his fingers through her hair gently. She nuzzled against him and breathed him in. ‘How’s the pain?’ she asked.

‘Painful… but less so.’

She nodded against his hand, her own fingers massaging against his thigh, moving higher onto his hip and then sweeping down, brushing more sensitive areas lightly. The Doctor twitched slightly at her touch. She ran her hands up his chest and half climbing half leaning into him pushed him back against the bed and began undoing his trousers. The Doctor didn’t move or protest but waited until she appeared above him clad only in her light robe, her legs straddling his hips. She leaned down and kissed him.

The kiss slipped into every part of him that hurt and he felt the volume of the pain turn down and off at her touch. He was aware again of his mind slipping into trance and there being nothing more important that the connection between them. He pulled the tie from her robe until it fell undone and then pushed it back from her shoulders gasping at the feel of her warm skin against him. Clara began kissing at his neck, her hands rubbing across his chest, teasing at his nipples, drawing muffled squeaks from him as she worked. He could feel her smiling and despite his tension he returned the smile.

Stop thinking, he reminded himself.

Before he realised it she was kissing below his navel and he felt something like panic mixed with arousal shoot through his body but it almost immediately subsided as the necklace glowed between them. Clara didn’t stop, her mouth steadily wending its way across his hip bones and further down to where his thigh met his pelvis. He was growing hard and her cheek brushed against him softly causing him to moan before her tongue ran down the length of him experimentally. The Doctor bucked and Clara’s smiling mouth took this as invitation to capture him entirely and suck gently. At her neck the jewel glowed warmly, the tendrils of its power feeding into both of them.

The Doctor’s back arched against the bed at the feel of her and his next moan was louder, more demanding. He tangled her hair in his fingers and held her against him, trying hard not to thrust into her mouth too needily. Clara leaned on his thighs and held him secure while at the same time reaching for one of his hands to both reassure and ground him. The Doctor’s breathing picked up speed and soon he was panting, pleading in barely meaningful words for what he needed, torn between watching her and shutting his eyes, the first almost too intense, the latter allowing him to spin out of control. He was tumbling quickly towards the edge and he couldn’t stop himself.

‘Clara… stop… I can’t…Gods… Clara….’

Her grip on his hand tightened in response and he fought with himself a moment longer. He wanted desperately to let go, to fall over the edge, to know she would catch him, accept him, to feel that there was nothing to fear but he _was_ afraid, he was afraid that that ultimate moment of vulnerability would destroy him. He was afraid she would see something in him she had not expected, be somehow driven away, he was afraid he was not truly what she wanted and he would break into pieces if that were the truth. He burned with the need for release and then froze unable to go further, collapsing back onto the bed with a growl of anguish.

Clara released him in concern. ‘Doctor?’ she said, slowly making her way up his body, watching as his chest heaved and he covered his eyes. ‘What is it? Is it me? Am I doing it wrong?’

‘No, Clara…’

‘Because I might be,’ she said, ‘Time Lord Anatomy might be different… I don’t really know…’

‘Clara, you’re perfect, what you’re doing is perfect.’

‘So…’

‘So… it’s me,’ he confessed

‘You’re thinking again aren’t you,’ she reached his side and took the hand from his eyes, ‘I warned you about that,’ she chided gently.

‘I can’t help it,’ he said, his breath still coming in pants. ‘I just… I can’t.’

‘What is it? You trust me right?’

The Doctor sighed and looked away embarrassed, ‘I…’

‘You do trust me?’ Clara questioned, ‘I know its intimate, it’s about as intimate as it gets but you know I want this, yes?’ she watched him struggle with his feelings a minute longer before an idea hit her, ‘Lie back again,’ she instructed.

‘Clara… really… just leave it…’

‘Nonsense. Trust me.’ Clara scooted down his body again and kissed across the lower part of his stomach, brushing his erection with the soft skin of her face and neck. ‘Now,‘ she said between kisses, ‘Put your hands in my hair again, except this time, turn on your psychic thing…’

‘What?’

‘You know, you’re telepathic…. So use it… get into my head, prove to yourself that you can trust me… I’ve nothing to hide and it might help you… let go…’ and she increased the intimacy of her kisses, taking him fully again in her mouth and letting out a low hum. The Doctor drew breath quickly at the sensation before twisting her hair around his fingers. He paused for a moment, his arousal spiralling quickly back to the point where he thought orgasm was near but again it stalled and he gasped desperately. He was reluctant to pry into Clara’s mind just to reassure himself even with her permission, even at her suggestion, but as her tongue flickered across the tip of him and his hips jerked under her he struggled to hold back a frantic moan. He needed her.

The Doctor dropped his mental guards and pushed into Clara’s mind.

‘Ah!’ what hit him was an unexpected burst of feeling that he could not quite describe. It rushed from behind the weak human barriers of Clara’s consciousness and washed into his own mind without hesitation as though she had been waiting there for him to seek her out. Images tumbled through his mind’s eye, images of both of them, and feelings from the past and present which confirmed to him only that what she did now was based on feelings which had long been with her. Through her own minds eye he caught her watching him, wanting him, he caught the memory of her weeping because she thought she’d never see him again and he saw her step into his Timeline from her own perspective, with the knowledge that yes it might destroy her but it would save him, and that was all that mattered. Echoes upon echoes, a thousand different versions of her face, of her voice speaking to him as she threw herself into the path of danger. The pictures swirled and expanded before contracting down into a single overpowering message.

 _Run you clever boy._ She died for him without hesitation. _And Remember._

She loved him.

She loved him.

She had _always_ loved him.

The link between their consciousness burst and with it his body convulsed as his pleasure peaked at last and his mind allowed his release. He called out her name breathlessly as she swallowed him down and then after a few moments pulled back, kissing up his body, meeting his lips, kissing away a tear that has slipped down the side of his face. He panted raggedly in her ear and immediately wrapped his arms around her, burying his nose in her hair and trying to stifle a wayward sob that threatened to expose him. But Clara already knew and whispered to him softly as his breathing slowed and his emotion settled into a warm sensation of safety.

‘See?’ she said, kissing him gently, ‘Better when you don’t think, just feel.’

He lay back with her secure in his arms letting his heartbeats slow again and traced Gallifreyan symbols on her skin. He wanted to agree so badly, he wanted never to have to think again.

She loved him, always had, always would, necklace or no necklace. Could it really be that simple?

The TARDIS engines sounded and he knew his ship was well on its way to Kaltragia.

They’d find out soon enough, he supposed.

 

 

 

 


	8. The Birth of Legends

 

Clara poked her head around the door of the TARDIS and surveyed the desert landscape.

‘So far Ancient Kaltragia looks exactly the same as modern Kaltragia just with more blue people.’

‘Well it is the same place, Clara, you can’t expect it to be radically different.’

‘Modern London looks radically different from London 200BC,’ she argued.

‘The civilisation of Kaltragia is hundreds of thousands of years old very little about it has changed in the last few millennia. The only reason it did change at all was the plague.’

‘What did the plague do?’

He looked at her as though she was stupid. ‘Resulted in ‘fewer blue people’ as you might put it. For a long while there were barely any native Kaltragians left. Led to an influx of immigrants and a watering down of traditional culture. Hence the loss of ceremonies such as the one that thing is used for,’ he pointed at the necklace still reluctant to address it by its title as though it were a person who had not earned such niceties.

Clara took a steadying breath. ‘Everyone is going to stare at me,’ she said.

The Doctor looked down at her outfit, the TARDIS having made further adjustments to it to fit the requirements of the era. He had to admit there really wasn’t an awful lot left of it. Clara had something more draped around her hips but this seemed to have been at the cost of what little had covered her breasts. They taunted him now, her nipples barely covered by a swirl of golden thread loosely bound. The Coupling Stone lay between them heavily, it had been glowing continuously since they landed, aware perhaps that it was home.

‘They won’t stare at you it’s the design of the time, all the females will be wearing something similar.’

‘I’m not blue, I’ll stand out, anyway look at them!’ Clara pointed out of the door at the crowd of Kaltragians passing by and at one group of women in particular gathered around a fountain. ‘They’re all so voluptuous, all hips and breasts and curves. I’m nothing like that, you told me once I looked like a boy!’

‘You do not look like a boy,’ The Doctor reassured her. Clara looked at him hesitantly while adjusting her scanty top best she could. ‘You don’t! You are extremely… feminine… ‘

‘Doctor…’

‘Don’t make me compliment you on your physique, Clara,’ he said tersely then blushed and looked down. Clara smirked, that blush alone made her feel better.

‘Ok so where do we start?’ she said to relieve his embarrassment.

‘Temple, same place we went before but several millennia earlier. It’s not a museum now it’s an actual place of worship and the Coupling Ceremony takes place there. We’ll go, find a Temple Master and ask them how to get that thing undone.’

‘OK, sounds simple,’ Clara looked across the crowd. ‘And there’s the temple? Looks just the same.’ She hopped out of the TARDIS and waited expectantly for the Doctor, ‘Come on, this thing round my neck is getting pretty excited, I can feel it tingling.’

He raised his eyebrows. ‘Really?’

‘Yes, I think it knows where it is…’ she made towards the Temple with the Doctor in tow. Around them the crowd jostled and pulled. There appeared to be some sort of market or event going on, Clara could hear excited chatter and debate alongside an occasional louder call. She caught the eye of a few blue skinned Kaltragians as she passed.

‘See I told you they’d stare…’

‘Hmm…’

Three female Kaltragians in Clara’s path turned to face her and almost as one stepped back out of her way. Across their skin were delicate and ornate painted patterns in pale green. Their eyes almond shaped and wide, black and pupil-less. Clara noticed with a slight shudder that they appeared to have no eyelids but blinked sideways with a reptilian membrane. _Think positive, Oswald, you’re on a mission._

‘They are polite though,’ she said, ‘I mean it’s so busy here and I’ve not had to push my way through….’

The women’s eyes flickered over her then came to rest of the Doctor suspiciously. He caught up to Clara in a few longer strides.

‘Clara just be cautious,’ he warned under his breath.

‘Cautious about what?’

Another trio of Kaltragians stepped aside from them and this time the Doctor saw the direction of their gaze straight onto the jewel around Clara’s neck. He glanced back and saw that the crowd had closed the gap behind them. He placed a hand on Clara’s arm and drew her to a halt.

‘What is it?’ she asked.

The crowd suddenly seemed quieter, the last of its chatter dying away even as Clara asked him. They had reached the steps of the Temple.

‘Why do I have a bad feeling about this?’ Clara whispered.

‘Because you’ve been on too many of these trips with me and know how it usually turns out,’ the Doctor said drawing her to him and casting his eyes over the crowd slowly. A hundred or more eyes looked back at them, dark and still, ebony set in cool water. He took a pace backwards up the steps to the Temple and pulled her with him.

‘We need to get inside. Now,’ he said urgently. Clara followed his lead. As they took another two steps the crowd paced forward almost as one, their shining black gaze never leaving the pair as they inched closer to the doors. They were so focused on the Kaltragians that they didn’t notice the Temple Master until Clara backed straight into him, his thick blue arms closing around her waist so that when she struggled against him she was lifted clear off the ground.

‘Hello thief,’ he growled.

Clara squealed and tried to wriggle her way free of his grip, the necklace burning her skin.

‘Let her go!’ the Doctor’s tone was of barely controlled rage, his sonic pointed squarely at the Temple Master’s head. ‘She’s no thief!’

‘Then perhaps _you_ are,’ the Temple Master cast his eyes over the Doctor’s form, tall slim and pale and a complete contrast to his own stocky blue body. He motioned to a set of guards hovering nearby and they closed around the Doctor who glanced between them and Clara as though calculating his chances. There were too many and she was vulnerable. The light from the sonic died.

‘I haven’t come here to steal,’ The Doctor said his arms raised in semi surrender, ‘Quite the opposite in fact.’

‘Then you come to return what you took? Our Gem has been missing a long time, its disappearance has delayed our fertility ceremonies, our harvest will fail and our people suffer. Babies fail to be born, the circle of life breaks. Perhaps your conscious is eating at you now and you realise the damage you have done.’

‘What?’ he asked, confused, ‘No, we came for advice…’

The Temple Master burst into deep laughter at the absurdity of this suggestion. ‘Advice?’ he rumbled, dragging Clara bodily through the wide doors of the Temple, ‘You claim you seek advice. Well how can we possibly advise you, _friend_ , do tell us how we can be of aid?’ His tone set the Doctor on edge and he followed at a short distance catching Clara’s eye as she continued to struggle, behind him several tall and thick set guards prevented any sudden moves.

‘We _found_ the jewel…’ the Doctor started.

‘Found!’ the Temple Master spun before his altar and carelessly flung Clara from his grasp. She landed in a heap at his feet, holding her ribs and gasping. The Doctor made to move forward but was immediately hauled back by one of the guards. ‘You did not find your jewel, you took it, perhaps you thought you could use its power, _old man_ , where your own potency has failed. But now you do not understand it, its magic leaves you helpless, so you bring it back? Am I right?’

‘Well about some of it apart from the stealing it bit… and the potency, I resent that,’ the Doctor said, ‘Look I don’t know who took it but I’m a Time Traveller, and I found your jewel several millennia away from here. Believe me it’s caused nothing but bother so you’re very welcome to have it back.’

The Temple Master looked at him incredulously.

‘Time… Traveller?’ he said dubiously.

‘Yes, I’m the Doctor, I’m a Time Lord, and that woman you just tossed on the floor as though she means nothing is Clara, my…’

‘She is Bound to you,’ the Temple Master observed approaching him slowly and reading volumes in his eyes, ‘You Bound her to you with our Gem…’

‘Unintentionally…’ the Doctor began.

‘No Coupling can be truly unintentional,’ The Temple Master Correct, ‘You are aware of that, _Doctor_.’

‘I didn’t know what it was when I put it on her…’

‘Part of you did,’ The Temple Master assured the ominous tone never leaving him. ‘Part of you must have even if your logical mind denies it. You wanted this woman but now that she is yours you try and flee from her. Why do you deny yourself, Doctor? Now there’s an interesting question…’

The Doctor fixed him icily with his stare but the flush in his cheeks revealed the Temple Master had indeed hit a nerve. ‘Look just take it back. Take it off her and take your Gem back and we can both be happy.’

‘Oh I intend to take it back, ‘The Temple Master gestured to his altar and for the first time the Doctor saw the sculpture upon it. Another robust female form, rounded and inviting, its finely carved face benevolent. Around its neck a space where a necklace once lay. ‘There is only one woman who wears this Gem and she is the Temple Mistress, she is mine, and she lies weakened in the heart of our temple without this Stone. She has been denied the Coupling Ceremony because of you thief, we are Unbound, barren and our people lose faith… so yes, I intend to take it back…’

‘Good…?’ The Doctor said warily.

‘There’s just one problem,’ The Temple Master turned his attention to where Clara was slowly regaining her breath at the foot of the altar. ‘Once that necklace is on there are only two ways to remove it and neither of those is available to me… they would only be available to _you_ as the wearer of the gem….’ Clara scrabbled to get to her feet and with a sharp kick he pushed her back down. The Doctor felt two pairs of hands restrain him just above his elbows.

‘No we cannot remove the necklace in the usual way,’ he continued bending to look Clara in the eyes, ‘I’ll just have to have her killed.’

‘No!’ The Doctor cried.

The Temple Master calmly straightened and looked back at the strange pale man with amusement in his eyes, ‘Or I could have you killed, either way it will break the bond. Maybe you’re right, maybe it should be you, she’s a pretty little thing, it would be such a waste, I’m sure we could find a suitable position for her here in the Temple… kill him,’ he ordered his men and stooped to grab Clara by the arm.

In the days that followed Clara would not be fully able to explain what happened at that moment, describing it as she would one of her echoes, only half remembered. For the Doctor it happened so fast that his memory was clouded but he was later able to piece together the events using references from texts describing the powers rooted in the Kaltragian culture. Whatever the details it became clear that the necklace used its power to protect them both at that moment.

As the guards closed around the Doctor he became completely obscured from Clara’s view and at that second the gem at her throat burst into light. Not the pale glow it had demonstrated before, not even the brighter glow it had given off when trying to lure them together. This light was harsh and startling, forcing itself out across the walls of the temple, blinding guards and worshippers alike, brilliant, white and painful it tore across the distance between her and the Doctor and threw aside the guards. Its force toppled the Temple Master as he clasped at her, freeing her from his hands, and as the bodies of the guards began to crawl away from the heat of the necklace, Clara, unaffected by its blinding rays locked eyes with the Doctor and told him,

‘Run. Run you clever boy….’

And it filled him with fear because he knew what those words meant.

The wall of light grew brighter still, the bodies at their feet began to scream in pain and something told him that she was in control and that as always she would keep him safe. It told him that but it also told him that she was in danger, that she was a sacrifice now.

_Run you clever boy…_

How often he had heard those words before an echo sacrificed herself for him and he looked at her in horror as she stood magnificent before the altar as though transformed into the Temple Mistress or an unnamed goddess, light streaming from the necklace and from within her. Around him the building began to shake and dust fell from above them. They had moments before it toppled and took both of them with it.

_Run…_

He would not leave her, it was his job to keep _her_ safe, so stepping over the guards he reached for her hand watching as the light from the Gem shone from her eyes and in the direction of her sight as she flicked her gaze around the room, a weapon against any who came between them. The building rumbled and the foundations creaked beneath them and together they ran from it and out into the frightened crowd beyond who stared darkly at them and in awe at Clara. The sea of bodies parted under the light from her eyes and before the town could truly respond to the destruction of their Temple the Doctor had pulled them to the safety of the TARDIS and sent her spinning out into time and space.

Clara soon felt the strength fade from her and collapsed into one of the chairs in the console room letting the minutes drift past in silence. He was leaning over the console guiding them back to her present when he heard her voice, ‘Doctor?’ he glanced across noting the necklace still intact, still around her neck and now without any sign of a glow. The soft blues and browns swirled together gently as they always had. The jewel seemed oblivious to the ruin it had just caused.

‘What just happened?’ she asked.

‘Where do I start?’ he replied honestly. ‘You just destroyed the Temple, probably most of their religious sect and rewrote the history of Kaltragia. I mean look at this,’ he pulled the monitor towards them and pulled up some information, ‘That huge building we visited? The museum? Gone. In its place…’ he gestured at the screen, ‘A vast monument to a suspiciously human looking female with large eyes and a funny shaped nose. Apparently ‘fire came from her gaze and destroyed the old ways when the Temple Master challenged her’.’

Clara opened her mouth in a wide ‘O’ and then wisely shut it again looking down at the gem.

‘This thing really doesn’t want me to take it off does it?’ she mused.

The Doctor joined her in one of the jump seats. ‘Back to the drawing board,’ he said. ‘Except there’s no-one left to ask about it,’ he sighed.

‘Can I take the outfit off now?’ Clara indicated her Kaltragian garb.

He glanced down at her barely covered body and then back up to catch her eye before very deliberately looking away. ‘Yes it would probably be best.’

Clara slipped off the seat and began to make her way out of the room before hesitating at the threshold ‘You need to follow me or you’ll end up suffering again.’

‘I seem to be alright.’

Clara frowned, ‘That’s odd, there’s quite a gap between us, maybe the spell or whatever it is, is weakening.’

The Doctor looked up at her sadly, ‘No, I don’t think it is. I just think we’ve reassured the necklace a little about the status of our relationship.’

She looked at him curiously, ‘What do you mean?’

‘Run you clever boy?’ he replied quoting her, ‘You were about to sacrifice yourself to get me out of there. Again.’

‘And you wouldn’t let me,’

‘I don’t usually get the chance to intervene, with your echoes I mean. I wasn’t about to let the real thing get hurt.’

They held each other’s eyes for a moment and then Clara nodded to herself her fingers covering the gem briefly before they looked away. ‘Sometimes I wonder if this necklace knows something I don’t,’ she commented conscious of the Doctor shifting a little uncomfortably over by the controls.

‘I will always try to protect you, Clara,’ he said quietly, ‘If that gem interprets that as love then…,’ he hesitated fiddling with the edge of the console and clearing his throat, unable to go further. ‘Go and get changed,’ he finished awkwardly.

 


	9. Release

 

The TARDIS was parked back in the living room of Clara’s flat and she was making them hot drinks in her pyjamas. If you didn’t know her you would have no idea she had just destroyed the belief system of an ancient culture with one flash of her big brown eyes. The Doctor put his feet up on the coffee table and waited for his tea to arrive. She’d been pretty spectacular he had to admit, and it was rather hard to make the realisation that the tiny woman shuffling tiredly towards him now in fluffy slippers was the goddess like creature whose monument now stood on an alien planet.

He accepted the mug of tea and shifted up the couch a bit to let her on. Clara curled up next to him and joined him in staring at the far wall.

‘So what now?’ she said wearily. The Doctor exhaled.

‘Not entirely sure.’

‘Got a plan?’

‘No,’ he took a sip of tea.

‘Doctor?’

‘Yes?’

‘I’ve been thinking. There are two ways to get the necklace off,’ Clara said, ‘Both the museum guy and the Temple Master have said that. The first one we’d have to truly lose all feeling for one another...’

The Doctor stiffened, he knew where she was going with this.

‘What’s the other one? You know don’t you?’

‘Yes, and no it’s not possible.’

‘But what is it?’

‘It doesn’t matter if it’s not possible, Clara.’

‘That doesn’t sound like you for starters,’ Clara teased, ‘Everything’s possible with a blue box and a screwdriver.’

He looked into his tea non-committally.

‘At least tell me what it is?’ she wheedled.

He sighed.

‘Doctor!’ she prodded impatiently. ‘You might as well tell me, everything else is a bust.’ She saw the muscle of his jaw twitch a little.

‘The purpose of the necklace is to assist the couple in being together. Strengthening the relationship, encouraging the bond….’ He relented.

‘Yes we’ve established that.’

‘So logically the only two circumstances where that is no longer needed are firstly if the bond is hopeless and secondly…’

‘Yes?’

‘Secondly if the necklace has no further work to do…’

‘Such as…’ Clara pushed for elaboration.

‘For want of a better way of putting it, when the couple…’ he huffed, ‘I can’t believe I’m saying this because it’s a completely impossible concept made up by writers of fairytales….’

‘What?’

‘… it’s nonsense. It doesn’t exist, it’s the stuff of lovesick poets and artists.’

‘Doctor?’

‘It’s….’

‘True love?’ Clara offered, ‘If they find true love then the necklace has nothing further to offer them?’ she paused and contemplated, ‘That makes sense.’

‘Don’t start Clara, the concept is ridiculous regardless of what you think we feel for one another. We need to find another way.’

Clara stared at him. ‘You don’t think we can manage it then?’

‘What?’

‘You don’t think we could find true love together?’

‘Clara have you lost your mind?’ his irritation and discomfort exploded out of him in a vexed little gasp.

Clara pouted a little and looked into the depths of her mug for a moment. ‘I just wouldn’t write it off so quickly, is all I’m saying.’

The Doctor made a frustrated movement next to her. ‘I’m sure if we were meant to achieve true love we would have by now….’ He said sarcastically.

‘You think? Because you’re not so great at letting yourself be in the moment,’ Clara said a little sharply, ‘My necklace, and me I may add, have had to fight you all the way.’

‘And I suppose you’ve been up front and honest about everything to do with our relationship too, have you?’ he sniped back.

‘What have I lied about?’ she jabbed.

‘You let me into your head Clara, you let me see everything, feel everything…’

‘Yes and did you see anything there other than how much I care about you? Anything at all?’ her anger was building now.

‘If you cared so much you would never have…’ he stopped himself just short of flinging painful accusations at her and ground his teeth. ‘Never mind.’

‘No, I do mind! What? What would I never have done?’

The Doctor could feel the bitterness growing in him. He didn’t want to say it, he didn’t want to hurt her, not when her grief was still fresh, but there was a part of him that just wanted to let rip and tell her just how awful things had been after he had regenerated. How unbearable it was to have her look at him and not see him, to just see his new grey hair and older face. How it had felt seeing her with Danny, how painful, and if she had been so sure she had loved _him_ why would she have done any of _that_?

Clara glared at him for a second, ‘Well?’

‘If you have always cared as you claimed to, then why….’

No, no he wouldn’t say it.

But then that was his problem wasn’t it, not saying things.

Clara shot him an exasperated look before she gave up and sat back into the couch. The moment passed like so many other unspoken moments. Internally the Doctor cursed himself. Both for his petulance and for his complete inability to communicate.

‘We’ve both had our faults, I was just suggesting it wasn’t too late to rectify them,’ Clara said finally, her voiced drained.

He didn’t respond.

‘Well if you’re not even going to consider it I’d best let you hit the books so you can remove the one thing that seems to be forcing us to confront the truth these days. That should keep you happy, get things back to ‘normal.’ Find a way to get rid of the necklace so you can go back to burying your head in the sand. I’m going to bed,’ and she got up suddenly unaware quite where the outburst of emotion had come from and went through to her room.

He felt like he had been stabbed.

The Doctor sat in stunned silence a moment longer, the warmth from the tea seeping through the mug and into his hands. He looked down at it and read the motif ‘World’s Best Teacher,’ probably a gift from one of her pupils, one of her pupils who could at least show their appreciation towards her on an ordinary level. Here he was having just had his life saved _again_ by a woman who had been willing to sacrifice her entire being, shattering it into a thousand pieces, for him and the best he could do was sulk on her couch annoyed because she’d found herself a normal man who told her he loved her when her two thousand year old alien pal couldn’t even bring himself to give her a hug. Was it any wonder she had got fed up waiting? He took another sip of tea. She saved his life, she travelled across space with him, she did the most incredibly brave things on a weekly basis in aid of his particular goals and when she wasn’t sacrificing herself she was making him tea, or baking him a soufflé or letting him sleep in her bed… what more did he want? What more proof did he need?

His mind wandered to her lying in her bed now and of how much he wanted to join her.

Then he tried to stop that line of thought and failed pitched once again into conflict with himself. Since the necklace had attached itself so resolutely to Clara he had been forced in turn to attach himself to her too. And she’d accepted, letting him share her space without questioning it, chastising him for stubbornly resisting when he was doubled over in pain and she was the only balm. He hated that the gem made it all so obvious, deep down he’d known for a long time that she was the one thing sure to sooth him whatever his ill might be, but he did not appreciate the necklace making him shout it from the rooftops unwillingly.

Clara was more comfortable with it that was for sure. But then she was human. Humans were always falling for one another and being emotional and expressing it endlessly. It was a bit more difficult for him, he reasoned. Except he knew very well that he had not always been the way he was now, and that love had come easily to him before. Before he changed, before Trenzalore, before a lot of things in his long life. He was running out of excuses. At some point he would just have to admit it to himself. Yes, he loved her, but that didn’t mean he was going to…

The Doctor flinched and cursed as the by now familiar pain in his middle stabbed at him reminding him that Clara was in another room and the necklace was probably pretty irritated with his behaviour. Well he was not going to just give in to it again he needed to think. There were huge consequences and repercussions. He had to think about what was best for Clara; that was the whole reason he had upped and left when he thought she had Danny. He wanted her to have the chance of an ordinary life and all that contained. She was still capable of that, if he could just leave her alone.

But he couldn’t. He was struggling to do the honourable thing and place her so far out of his reach that she was safe from everything that was associated with him. He even hung around her favourite book shop on cold winter days on the off chance of seeing her, playing games with himself when he could easily just use the TARDIS scanner to locate her. He was pathetic. He leant his head against the back of the couch and cursed under his breath. He wished Clara would come back through and sit with him. He wasn’t sure he could face a conversation about feelings but he stilled wished she was next to him on the sofa. He closed his eyes and cursed again, he felt utterly weak. How could one piece of jewellery have such control over him?

The pain stabbed again and he ground his teeth. It was as though it aimed to remind him that it wasn’t the necklace that had control, it was the woman wearing it. The Doctor leaned forward and place the empty tea mug on the table and sat motionless looking at it.

Clara seemed to think the ‘true love’ idea had a shot. She seemed to believe they were capable of it. He snorted. Humans. If only it were that simple. True love was something little girls dreamed of while they played with their dolls, it had no place in the increasingly harsh world he lived in, surely Clara, after everything she had been through would know this by now. But then she always had been the eternal optimist and it always had been that amongst other things that drew him to her.

He dropped his head into his hands and let out a small whimper and the pain crept up inch by inch, notch by notch. It was tapping into his mind now, clouding his thoughts, reaching a point where all he could think of was finding relief from it. True love. What kind of ridiculous fantasy was that? There had to be something more solid to the power the gem seemed to wield over them. There had to be something magnetic or mechanical or…

‘Ah!’ he couldn’t hold back the exclamation of pain this time. It caught him unawares and took the air from him. The damn gem wouldn’t even let him consider other options. He glanced towards the bedroom door, ashamed. Ashamed that he felt driven to go to her, that he needed her, that he might have to beg because she was angry but she was also all he had. He berated himself but pushed his body from the couch and staggered over to the doorway where he held himself against the frame to catch his breath.

‘If you need to come in, come in,’ Clara said coolly from inside and he winced at her tone. He almost turned back but another wave of agony ran through him and he felt his skin turn cold with nausea. The Doctor edged inside the door and let it fall shut behind him.

The room was dark but for the streetlights outside, but his eyes soon adjusted to find her huddled under the covers on her side. She was facing away from him, her back tense.

‘Clara,’

‘Shut up. I don’t know why you have to make this so difficult. I suppose because you are you, I shouldn’t expect anything else.’

‘I…’

‘Shut up,’ She reached behind her and yanked the covers back quickly, ‘If you want you can get in, or you can sit in the chair like you did the other night, I don’t care, I’m past caring.’

‘Are you?’

‘Yes. I mean… no… I don’t want you to be in pain. But I don’t want to have to lie here until the small hours talking and figuring it out only to have you say my silly human brain doesn’t get how _serious_ it is and how _complex_ and how _difficult_.’

‘Oh,’ he took a few tentative steps towards the bed.

‘Because for your information,’ she went on despite herself, ‘I know what love is thank you very much and I thought once you did too,’ and she suddenly went very quiet and turned her face deeper into the pillows.

The Doctor hesitated behind her and then slid onto the bed where he sat uncomfortably wishing he could see her face but at the same time worried what he would find there.

‘I did,’ he said quietly.

‘Did what?’

‘Know once,’ he answered.

‘So what’s wrong with you now?’

‘I thought you didn’t want to talk about it?’

‘I don’t!’

‘Well then.’

‘But I have to!’ She spun towards him under the covers. ‘Can’t you see how impossible this is? How impossible you’re making it?’

‘Why do you keep saying that?’

‘Because you’re the one who won’t let it happen!’

‘Just because you are more susceptible to the Coupling Stone…’

Clara flung the covers back and jumped to her knees on the bed in front of him ‘It has nothing to do with the stone you stupid, stupid man!’ She grabbed the necklace and tugged at it angrily, blue sparks flying from it in protest as she did so, ‘It has nothing to do with _this_ and everything to do with _us_! Maybe it opened my eyes a little but only because I l _et_ it.’

‘Clara we’re going round in circles…’

‘So stop going round in circles!’ she shot back at him, ‘Because when you let yourself it’s all very different, when you let me hold you and... and kiss you… when we’re together and you stop thinking and worrying that you’re somehow doing me some injustice… that you’re not allowed to do this… then… then… then it works! _We_ work!’ she pulled her hands through her hair in frustration. ‘Oh why am I bothering? You’re centuries old, you’re not going to change because I demand it, it doesn’t matter anymore what I do or how I try to show you what _could_ be…’ she trailed off, her hands coming to rest on her thighs.

The Doctor looked down at his own hands awkwardly and heard Clara shove herself back and get under the covers.

‘Just get in,’ she said, ‘It’s late, and we’re tired and we’re going to end up saying things we don’t mean.’

He miserably stripped down to his shirt and trousers and cautiously accepted Clara’s invitation, lying behind her on the bed, his mind still racing but determined to let her rest and avoid further spikes of emotion. He was dimly aware of the faint glow of the necklace beginning beside him.

Clara muttered and pulled the cover over the gem, her back to the Doctor, she was determined to ignore its presence tonight and then go full tilt to find a way to remove it tomorrow. She was tired of this to-ing and fro-ing, of getting her hopes up just to have him retreat after every intimate moment they shared. It was destroying her. Well if he couldn’t handle it she’d put an end to it and the first step to that was removing the gem. There had to be a way. Well there was a way but the Doctor was stubborn and that way was closed to her so she would just have to bloody well find _another_ way. And she wasn’t hurting at all, she refused to hurt, and those were _not_ tears burning behind her closed eyelids, or seeping out to dribble onto the pillow.

She felt the bed dip behind her and the Doctor move closer, presumably because he was still sore or uncomfortable. The light from the necklace brightened and she cursed it again for contributing to her sleeplessness. How was she supposed to rest with it in her eyes like that? She felt wretched and disconnected. Just when she had thought things were going to get better for her. Just when the first sting of grief over Danny had subsided. Just when the Doctor had come back and she had begun to see the possibility of better things returning to her life, this had to happen. This stupid necklace that dug up all these feelings that both of them could have lived with if only they hadn’t been made to confront them or deal with them in any way. They could have just kept blithely lying, it had always worked for them before.

Clara sniffed quietly and it was then she felt one of the Doctor’s hands slide around her waist and rest on her belly. It wasn’t a sexual move but an intimate one. It was comforting not provocative. And it was tender. She wriggled back a touch to find him lying against her and felt his chin come over her shoulder a little as he pressed a soft kiss to her cheek.

‘I’m sorry,’ he whispered. Clara covered his hand with her own. ‘I’m a bit out of practice…’

She exhaled and allowed herself a half smile. He was trying. ‘At what?’ she asked. ‘Arguing with me?’

‘Well that too but that’s not what I was meaning…’

‘What were you meaning, what are you out of practice at?’

He hesitated, his tone changing, ‘Telling someone I love them.’

Clara felt the tears gather in her eyes again at his words. ‘Oh,’ she said softly, ‘Well you’ve made a start...’

‘Yes…’ there was a sadness to his voice that made her heart want to break. ‘Clara?’

‘Mmm?’

‘How sure are you?’

‘About what?’

‘About…’ he hunted for the right term, ‘About us?’ he said simply.

‘I’m sure. Even if you aren’t, I am.’

He nuzzled into her again hesitating, ‘Clara, I’m terrified,’ he said softly and she pressed her lips together to choke back her tears, because he was, she could hear it in his voice.

‘Why?’ she asked.

‘Because if we do this, if I let this happen, I’m going to lose you.’

‘No, you won’t…’

‘Yes, I will. Even if you don’t reject me tomorrow, I’ll lose you one day. You’ll tire of space and time, or you’ll seek a normal life, or be killed on some faraway planet because we slipped up…

‘No…’

‘And even if we get through all that, I’ll still lose you, because time is cruel and time takes everything and everyone. Except me.’

And Clara felt the first of her tears fall as she listened.

‘That’s all the more reason not to push me away,’ she whispered. ‘Tell me…’

She heard him suck in a breath behind her, the shake in it obvious.

‘Tell me,’ she said again.

She felt the thud of his hearts quicken at her back, ‘I… can’t,’ and the pain in his tone made her own throat ache.

‘Show me then…’

There was a pause and then his hand tightened around her waist and he nuzzled gently into her hair. Clara turned in his arms and sought out his eyes in the dim light, the necklace at her throat becoming calm and dark. ‘Show me,’ she said again. She waited, aware that until now she had made the advances between them at the behest of the necklace, that it had been her taking the lead. She needed this to come from him, for him to want this as much as her and to let himself want it. Her walls were down, his had to be too. Clara saw him swallow, his eyes flickering over her face as if seeking out the best place to begin, before he inhaled a shaky breath and closed the gap between them.

They had kissed before, but it had never felt like this and she wondered if this meant he truly was letting down his barriers as he gathered her in his arms and drank from her. She pressed against the length of his body and wished that just for a moment she could become a part of him long enough for him to realise that she would always be with him. She knew exactly what her heart was telling her and that it would never alter, now she began to feel at last the same sensations spilling over her from him as his kiss became hungrier and he pulled her tighter against him.

The Doctor rolled her slightly so that she was on her back and kissed along her neck. He kissed her cheeks and her eyelids and into her hair, he kissed her temple, her ear, her lips. He buried his nose in her skin and breathed her in. He worshipped her as though starved, as though each tiny kiss provided him with enough sustenance for a year. He felt each inch of her with such gentleness it made tears spring to her eyes as his fingers traced over her shoulder, her arm, lacing between her own. He worked to remove her nightclothes and peppered her breasts with the same tiny kisses, gradually building them into languid motions of his tongue against her skin. Clara moaned and ran her hand through his thick silver hair, letting it curl and tug around her fingers before raking them down over his back. The sensation reminded her that he was still at least partially dressed so she pulled at his shirt, freeing it from his waistband.

He released his kiss for long enough to yank the shirt from his back and then returned to her warm against her skin. Clara let her hands roam over him happily, her gaze feeling clouded and light, her body humming under his touch, she felt as though she was drifting suspended in his arms. When he trailed his kisses back to her lips she shut her eyes and floated on a tide of slow building arousal that she wanted to last forever.

He pulled back and she felt him remove the rest of her night things before the material of his trousers pressed back into her sensitised flesh. Unable to help herself Clara ground up and against where she could feel his erection was resting trapped by cloth. The Doctor gasped and twitched against her and so with her lips tingling with the rhythm of their hard deep kisses she pulled back and looked into his eyes, his pupils blown with desire, as she unfastened his belt and zipper.

At last he was completely hers, his usually cool skin heating under her touch and from the warmth of her own body. He was naked against her, solid and hard, and she ran needy caresses down the length of his chest, trailing her nails over his stomach. She wrapped a hand around him as she had a few days before but this time he did not avert his face but bucked at her touch, his eyes focused on hers. Clara smiled as she felt him push further into her grip and then slowly extract himself, again pushing forward, his breath hitching at the sensation. Clara felt arousal coiling inside her as she watched him take pleasure from her, his uncertainty leaving him. His eyes fluttered shut after a minute and she let him lose himself in her grip, vulnerable and exposed as his body alone guided his movements. When his breath began to come in shallow bursts she eased back, slowing her strokes and shifting beneath him so that he was closer to her body. She allowed the tip of him to brush against where she was wettest and heard the reflexive noise at the back of his throat in response. Clara let go of him and he ground forward against her causing her to whimper needily.

‘Clara,’ he breathed raggedly in her ear, one arm snaking around to hold her to him as his hips moved involuntarily. He was so close to being inside her now she could feel her whole body tightening in anticipation, longing for him to join with her. She ran her hands down his back and onto his hips, encouraging him.

‘Please,’ she whispered. He was kissing her neck but moved at the sound of her voice and looked down into her eyes, searching them. Even in the semi-darkness of the room he seemed to find what he was looking for as she looked back at him easily, clearly. ‘Please,’ she said again.

Time stopped as he watched her and he let the fingers of one hand lightly touch her hair and cheek.

‘I do love you, Clara Oswald,’ he said and the words pierced into her with such intensity that she felt herself sob. The Doctor smiled gently and continued his soft caress, ‘I’ve loved you so much for so much longer than you’ll ever know. I didn’t need a necklace to bind myself to you, we were already bound. I think it already knew that.’

Clara felt him move against her and lifted her hips a little to meet him, ‘Tell me again,’ she said.

‘I love you,’ he whispered.

‘Tell me again,’

‘I love you,’ and he pushed into her.

‘Ah…’ she breathed in deeply, filling her lungs with his scent as he filled her body, ‘…tell me…’

‘I love you…’

Clara wrapped her arms around him pulling him as close as she could, conscious but uncaring that the tears now streamed down her cheeks and that he would feel them on his skin. He was really here, he was really telling her. She could feel her body fighting, an odd war between desire and emotion, a release of that sad empty feeling that had been with her for so long, only to be filled utterly with him and with the connection they had denied since they met. Oh God why had they waited, why when something could feel so whole and so perfect, why would anyone wait? Clara’s breathing was stuttering, half sob, half the short pant of arousal and she tried to regain control only to fail. But then he placed his lips on hers and opened his mind and suddenly the choking tears relented and she felt nothing but the security of his arms, and his body and his being, saw nothing but what he was showing her now, what he had carried within him for centuries.

‘I love you,’ he said again.

Soulbound. She understood it now. The swirling blues and browns of the jewel at her throat. The living mixture of the two of them, the perfect balance in its private world, in their world. One couldn’t be without the other, and once mixed, once bound, could never come apart.

Clara felt him quickening his pace and heard him mumble softly against her neck, strained words of desire and need. He took her with him, she arching up into his body, driving him deeper, pulling back in long strokes and then encouraging him to push shallowly, rapidly, grinding against her. She heard her own voice before she realised that she was speaking, calling his name. They were climbing together, joined, driven, desperate, but unwilling to leave one another behind. But there would be no separating them now, they were absolutely one. The Doctor growled against her and she heard and felt it rumble in his chest. He drove into her harder and she saw the pulse of climax begin to build in his mind, felt it tighten in his body. Like a thousand fine spun threads of gold their consciousness’ reached for each other and wove a design that was theirs alone until Clara could no longer tell where he ended and she began. She was tipping, tipping into a level of pleasure that frightened and thrilled her in equal measure. Her body was trembling and she felt she might break, it was too intense, too powerful, she couldn’t breathe, her heart hammering against him. It was too much, she couldn’t breathe, she couldn’t breathe…

‘Clara!’ the Doctor’s grip on her hip tightened, he slammed into her and suddenly she inhaled, gasping, before the scream tore from her lungs and her body burned with release. She felt him empty himself into her, his own shout muffled by her neck, and threw back her head as the power of her orgasm took control of each muscle and breath. She was dimly aware of him kissing her softly as she slowly spun back down to him, the intense pleasure subsiding and being replaced by the security of his embrace. Clara moved instinctively so that she was cradled in his arms and placed her head on his chest. The double beat of his hearts was the last thing she remembered.

 

XXXXXXXXXX

It was snowing. A little late for Christmas, she thought, but she preferred it to the sleet of the last week or so. Clara peeked between the curtains of her bedroom window as the daylight tried its best to forge its way through the heavy flakes falling from the sky. Outside a thick blanket already lay over the street and as yet it was too early during this holiday time for anyone to be up and about shovelling and disturbing it.

Even the Doctor wasn’t awake. Clara cast a glance back to the bed where he lay on his side, quite unconscious and apparently quite content. She’d seen him sleep before now, but never with that little smile on his lips, just the faintest smile on a face that until recently had always been dark with worry of one form or another. The weight of the world. Or of the Universe more accurately. Her own lips twitched. There he was, sleeping, in her bed. He looked like it was the first time in centuries he had truly rested. Knowing him it probably was.

At her throat the necklace hummed. She had almost forgotten about it and now it was glowing again. It had been totally dark and still since before they made love but she’d half expected it to dramatically disintegrate or explode last night as she was pretty sure what they had experienced was as close to an expression of true love as anyone could hope to get. But maybe the Doctor had been right and concepts like that were just the stuff of fairytales. Well she could live with it. It was just a necklace and it wasn’t hideous, she’d grown to quite like its shape and colours and now she had a sense of its meaning too. It represented something, it represented them and their unique blend of qualities. She giggled. Clara Oswald, romanticising an alien necklace that she was now stuck with for life because the Doctor, her two thousand year old boyfriend, had taken her Christmas shopping on another planet.

She stopped. Boyfriend. Could she really call him that? Boyfriend didn’t quite feel right. Clara chewed on a nail and watched the snow fall some more. What did one call Time Lords in relationships?

A soft noise from behind her and she turned to find him waking. She grinned and bounced over to the bed, crawling across to where he was slowly coming to, running one hand through his decidedly mussed up hair.

‘Hello,’ she said, the smile on her face getting wider.

He peered at her still slightly sleep ridden, ‘Hello,’ he said a little warily.

‘So… it’s morning,’ Clara chirruped, ‘And guess what… it’s snowing!’

The Doctor raised an eyebrow at her, ‘And this is exciting because?’

‘Snow is romantic,’ she explained.

‘Right, romantic,’ he heaved himself into a sitting position and then slumped against the pillows, ‘It’s also cold, and melty.’

‘We could go for a walk!’ Clara suggested, ‘After breakfast, obviously I’ll cook breakfast first, and then we’ve all day to do things.’

‘Right… things… ’ he glanced at the glowing necklace, ‘Oh Gods, it’s at it again!’

‘It’s OK, I don’t think it’s doing much,’ Clara said holding it between her fingers, ‘It’s just glowing, I mean you don’t look like you’re in pain, I don’t feel like I’m in a trance.’

The Doctor eyed it suspiciously. ‘It just makes me nervous,’ he commented, ‘I don’t trust its motives.’

‘Its _motives_ are pure,’ Clara poked him, ‘Its motives are true love, remember.’

The Doctor rolled his eyes, ‘How could I forget.’

Clara hopped next to him and climbed back under the covers suddenly aware she was chilly. She couldn’t help but laugh when he squeaked in protest.

‘Ah! You’re freezing, how long have you been up for?’

‘Oh a while…’

‘Doing what?’

‘Watching you sleep mainly.’

He stared at her. ‘Why?’

‘Because you looked happy,’ she said simply, cuddling into him, ‘And because I can…’

The Doctor slipped his arm around her and pulled her close under the duvet, rubbing her arm to warm her. ‘That’s a little bit creepy but… OK. Come here,’ she wriggled against him, ‘You’re still too cold.’

‘Doctor?’

‘Yes?’

‘Are you initiating a hug?’

He froze, his hand mid rub on her arm. ‘Um…’

‘You are aren’t you?’ Clara turned her face up to look at him, ‘You are hugging me, without protest, actually no, you are snuggling.’

‘I am not snuggling,’ he said peevishly.

‘Are so!’ the triumph laced her voice, ‘And I also wonder….’ She adjusted her position a little.

‘What?’ the Doctor looked slightly alarmed.

‘If… you… are…. Ticklish!’ and she made a dive for his ribs. Clara burst out laughing as the Doctor let out an irritated squeal but then quickly regretted her actions as he spun her over and pinned her to the bed.

‘You are going to regret that,’ he said.

‘Am I?’

‘Yes,’ he attempted to look serious but failed miserably, the smile breaking forth in spite of himself. Clara beamed up at him.

‘Do you know what?’ she said looking into his eyes.

‘What?’

Clara cocked her head slightly and let her gaze roam over his face, his new, suddenly relaxed, wonderful, handsome face. ‘You and I, are going to be so good,’ she said, and he smiled that shy smile she loved so much.

The necklace slipped from her throat and landed on the bed with a soft thud, its clasp finally released.

Both of them looked down at it and then back at each other, Clara’s smile turning slightly smug and the Doctor wearing a resigned expression, knowing what was coming next. Before she could say I told you so he placed a finger over her lips.

‘Not a word about true love,’ he warned as she tried to protest, ‘Not… one… word…’ And he won her silence with his kiss.

 


End file.
